Essais
by ImaNukeYourFace
Summary: From Middle French, from Old French essai, from Late Latin 'exagium' ("weighing"); in the original sense, "trial" (if the gold is good); drifted towards a general meaning "attempt". Literary meaning given by Michel de Montaigne's masterpiece. Hence, English "essay." Collection of one-shots. New chapter: Something Worse than Trust
1. Essais

Essais Pour La Vérité

 _._

 _Essai (/ɛ.sɛ/, /e.sɛ/)  
_ _Noun  
_ _A trial or a test; an assay or search; an attempt or an effort; in the literary sense, essay._

 _Pour (From the French)  
_ _Preposition  
_ _Meaning for, to, of, or towards._

 _Vérité (French, /veriˈtā/)  
_ _Noun  
_ _The truth._

 _._

In Search Of Truth

.

Language is useless.

Of all the human creations in the world, language can be said to be the one that fails the most often. Many foolishly naive predispositions about language exist:

"It's helpful because then people know what the other is thinking."

"It's totally good because without it, I couldn't talk with my friends!"

"Language helps people learn things!"

But reality isn't as happy-go-lucky as these idealistic beliefs make it out to be. Just because you said something in words doesn't mean it'll reach the other person. Believing that with language, you can know just what someone else is thinking is unbelievably arrogant. Thinking that your use of language will allow the other person to understand you is incredibly self-righteous. In reality, words are garbled, misspoken, and misunderstood, and somewhere along the way, whatever message might've existed just vanishes; an ephemeral dream wisping away before the incessant buzzing of the alarm clock of reality.

"Talking with friends:" yet another foolishly idealized tenet of language use. Although talking with friends, hanging out, and the like are generally viewed as wholesome and fulfilling activities in the lie called "youth," these delusional dreamers fail to see their own hypocrisy. Talking and laughing with a group is almost always an illusion, a sweet facade put up over the fake, selfish, and inconsiderate people involved.

And when the group is not made from calculated necessity, a manipulation for an end goal or a game between selfish people with smiling masks, when the people involved are reasonably authentic and sincere, then the talking is but a momentary reprieve. A break, a lull, an interim remission of the punishments of the world. That temporary feeling of happiness can't really be called genuine, as it fades into the abyss without fail when grasped at. It's manufactured happiness, a simple release of a few minor hormones into the nervous system, stimulating a feeling of contentedness that vanishes by the time one realizes it was there.

Language is good for naught but dreams and lies. So what if you can come up with a cool saying? In the real world, that won't get you living expenses. Making others laugh is a form of egotism, and conversations between friends are simply shallow people gaining superficial pleasure from affirming each other's trivial existence.

Moreover, spoken language is only about 30% of communication-the other 70% is done through body signals, facial expressions, and voice inflections. Even if one never talked to anyone, they could still perform 70% of the communication ritual. And that 30% is hazardously full of misnomers, misuse, misappropriation, and misunderstandings.

Language is as good as useless.

So I shouldn't have had to write this essay.

.

 _Grade: None._

 _Notes: You're doing this paper again, you cheeky little bastard. Or else._

 _And it better not be more of the same._

 _._

Shadows are great.

Scientifically, a shadow is caused when a light ray impacts an opaque object. This creates a space behind that object where no light from that source can reach, as well as an outline or negative image of the shape of that object.

Most of the time, people's shadows fall behind them, on the ground, where they are accepted, ignored, taken for granted. Other times, there are simply too many light sources to create the adequate amount of darkness to notice a shadow. Shadows cannot be examined by traditional methods-after all, even if shining a flashlight under your bed lets you see the cobwebs and dust better, shining one at a shadow will only make it vanish.

Shadows can be twisted, warped, or misproportioned. Simply by casting a shadow in the 5:00 sunset, one finds that it is much taller than they are-a fact most of us have come to accept as common sense. But shadows rarely retain the exact image of their caster; rather, they conform to fit the object or background that they land upon. The shadow of a car driving along a roadside will jump, dip, and twist as the car passes hills, buildings, ditches, trees, and fields.

But perhaps the most interesting part about shadows is the meaning that they mysteriously contain. A two-dimensional object, by definition, yet it still allows a representation of a 3-dimensional object. Regardless of how strangely formed they appear, shadows provide a glimpse at the shape, the nature, the identity of the caster. Like a picture of a cube drawn on a sheet of paper, a notion of the third dimension can likewise be drawn from a shadow. Although it can only serve as a flawed representation of the real object's true nature, shadows can allow us a guess. An attempt.

Words are a lot like shadows.

Scientifically, language is a collection of sounds produced by the human voicebox and diaphragm that we have assigned a meaning and a significance.

Most of the time, people's language is used casually, for mundane and material topics, and the words they use are accepted, ignored, taken for granted. Other times, people use their language for harm, to insult others, to put them down using age-old, unoriginal phrases that were passively accepted by society as derogatory. Language cannot be examined by traditional methods-in the words of the great American poet Billy Collins, we can't "begin beating it with a hose/ to find out what it really means[1]."

Words can be twisted, warped, and misproportioned. Simply by talking with a girl in a classroom after sunset, most people will read too much into the situation-a misconception that defies common sense. But conversations like these rarely have the luster of an idealistic fantasy; rather, you probably just had cleaning duty together, or you were forced into an inexplicable club with the type of person who enjoys hurling biting insults at others. Words conform to fit the background of the listener's personality, and so they are misinterpreted according to that person's hopes, dreams, or aspirations, into something inaccurate, imagined, and untrue.

But perhaps the most interesting thing about words is the meaning that they mysteriously contain. Words are simply sounds, collections of letters or characters, a 3-dimensional medium; and yet they allow us to convey meaning about 4-dimensional ideas. Regardless of how confused, backwards, or warped our words and sentences may be, they provide a glimpse at the shape, the nature, the identity of the concept or feeling that the speaker is trying to illustrate. Like the shadow of a tesseract cast on a 3-dimensional plane, a notion of the 4th dimension can likewise be drawn from our language. Although it can only serve as a flawed representation of that genuine thing's true nature, words can allow us a guess. An attempt.

Writers love to talk about universalities, hoping that in doing so, their words might become some garbled form of truth. Imagine a shadow play, if you will. A production where little figures, ornately and intricately detailed, dance around on sticks before an audience. A puppet representation of the real world, conveyed in language; in words; in speech and writing. Those puppets cast shadows on the curtains behind them; clumsy shadows, shadows that don't care what the puppet's face looks like. Shadows that don't care what the puppet's details are like. Shadows that are impartial to the superficiality of those little actors, instead trying to vaguely ascertain some kind of pattern or reason, quite literally behind it all. Words, like those two-dimensional puppets, are the facade behind which hides those imagined universalities, those deeper meanings, the logic by which we imagine the world is supposed to work.

The shadows behind those puppets-are they the truths we search for?

The ideas behind those shadows-are they the truths we search for?

Well...

Probably not.

.

 _Grade: 100%_

 _Notes: Kid…_

 _It's better._

 _._

" _Hey, hey, Hikki, whatcha got there? Is it a test? How'd you do?"_

" _...so many questions, so little time. Jeez, it's not a test. And...well, I did okay."_

" _Ara, for Hikigaya-kun to consider himself to have done well. He might have actually broken a 50 for once."_

" _A HUNDRED!? Hikki, I didn't know you were smart!"_

" _I'm not sure whether to be insulted or not."_

" _Hmm, I suppose you did rather decently. After all, even I don't get perfect scores on EVERY assignment."_

" _...that was extreme egotism, disguised as humility."_

" _No, I was simply stating a fact. Facts are by nature impartial, didn't you know?"_

" _But they can be used to argue a point. A point which, in this case, happens to be extremely egotistical."_

" _It's not egotism if it's true. And besides, as I've said before, those that have never worked hard for their goals have no right to be jealous of those that have achieved them."_

" _But I did achieve my goal."_

" _...I'm still a bit lost about how Hikki got a 100 on that writing assignment. I mean, I knew you were good at modern Japanese, but not THAT good…"_

" _..."_

" _You know, this is still only gonna be a 90% anyway."_

" _Why?"_

" _...I turned it in late."_

 _._

 **Disclaimer: I do not speak French.**

 **Hey guys, ImaNuke here with the new chapter 1! When I wrote this, I figured I'd make it the first chapter, since it's technically the "title chapter." Plus, the whole series started with Hikigaya writing an essay like this, so I figured that you can't go wrong there! Hope you liked the essays too, and as always, thanks for reading.**


	2. My Christmas was Wrong as I Had Expected

**Hey everyone, ImaNuke here. I decided to make all my oneshots into a compilation, to consolidate my efforts, so I've put some of my older writings in here. If you've read em before, you could skip because there's new stuff, but if not, enjoy!**

My Christmas Was Wrong As I Had Expected

Being observant. One of my 108 Special Loner skills, it's served me well to this day. Of course, the problem with being observant is that it must be countered by an equal-no, a greater-amount of rationalization. Otherwise, these observations could lead to mistaken assumptions and ultimately humiliation. Source: me. So I don't think that I became a such a balanced individual despite being unpopular. Rather, I attribute my success to my unpopularity. I learned from my experiences, and I grew wise to the ways of the world. In fact, you could put me up there with Sora and Shiro. When it comes to surviving the social jungle, the Blank never loses!

The one downside to being consistently apt at observation occurs when I encounter a situation I'm unprepared for. There do exist things I don't have in the vast database of Hikigaya Hachiman's Daily Loner Log. In fact, my log is so extensive it must've been a redwood before it was cut down. But wait, redwoods live in groups. Maybe it was a solitary redwood. Well, still, the best method to prevent damage from an unexpected source is to retreat. Nothing wagered, nothing lost. Being alone is great, after all. In fact, since my annual losses are zero, I must be the happiest person in the world.

But when you're normally so observant that you don't miss the smallest things, people place expectations upon you. You place expectations upon yourself. And, eventually, you can grow complacent. You can miss things. And when you unknowingly wander into one of the traps the world sets for you, those bars are pretty hard to slip through.

December. The month of freezing weather, annoying normalfags, freezing weather, more annoying normalfags, and freezing weather. Wait, aren't there only two important points about December? What a sad month. And this was supposed to be the season of joy or something. I wasn't feeling particularly joyful towards December-kun as I pedaled my bike through the biting wind towards school. Plus, all the stores have begun their Christmas advertising campaigns. And who were those directed to but normalfags. As I thought, all normalfags should just die in a hole. Or spend all your hard-earned money on useless seasonal decorations and then die of starvation, either way, Hachiman gets his vengeance. I didn't even have to worry about things like spending all my money because I didn't have a job. Plus Komachi would never let onii-chan die of starvation. As I thought, not working really is the best.

Engaged in worthless thoughts like these, I made my way toward the demon lord's castle, school. After putting my bike on the bike rack as usual, I ventured through the frozen and gloomy corridor towards my end goal: the burning fires of the classroom. Wow this really does sound like an RPG. Well, judging by the (lack of) attention I was getting, I was just a villager. As expected of my special ability, stealth Hikki. Once I arrived at the classroom, the burning torchlight resolved itself in the form of a puffing heater near the other side of the room. I activated another one of my special skills: pretend to sleep. Well, it's not like I had anything better to do. Actually, I was in danger of going from pretending to sleep to really sleeping...that heater was pretty nice…

"Hachiman!"

Oh no, I guess I didn't just fall asleep. I must've died. And now the angels were calling me to heaven.

"Hachiman!"

Wait, hang on a second. No way would they let me into heaven, I'd stick out like a sore thumb. The majority would vote me off the island. So if I wasn't going to heaven, that left one other option.

I opened my eyes and looked up at Totsuka.

"Morning, Hachiman!" An angelic smile eased my half opened eyes. No, don't do that, you'll put me back to sleep...darkness...Totsuka…I wonder what I could do to Totsuka in the dark… Control yourself, Hachiman. Only Ebina is allowed to have these kinds of thoughts. Even if it is Totsuka.

"Morning, Totsuka," I returned. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, but you looked kinda tired."

"Nah, it's this heater." Aha! To make me lose my guard this easily! I've found you, Maou-sama! Now to the boss level, Hikigaya versus The Heater.

"Yeah, it is pretty cold outside. Getting to be Christmas and all."

"Christmas, huh…" Well, only about 1% of all Japanese were actually Christian, but Christmas was still a pretty prevalent holiday. Plus all the corporations had a good excuse to entice the masses into buying more junk. Just because I agreed that Christmas was a big commercial racket didn't mean I was a mean-spirited loud mouthed girl. In fact, of all the Charlie Browns, I was probably the Charlie Brownest.

"You have any plans for Christmas, Hachiman?" Totsuka asked. My, my, Totsuka. Was this an invitation? I say yes! I do! Through sickness and health! Whatever!

"N-nah, not really."

"Hmm…" Surprisingly, Totsuka looked confused at my reply. Well really, it's not like I'd have anything to do. A societal requirement of all who partake in Christmas events is that they are normalfags with a social life. AKA, not me. In fact, I'm almost insulted, Totsuka. I thought you knew me better than this. I thought we were super-close! BFFs! In fact, you can get as close as you like!

"I thought…they would've..." Totsuka muttered to himself. But he was interrupted by a menacing aura that began emanating from the front of the room. A single woman stood at the front, glaring at the class. Heh. Single. Immediately I felt the pressure from the aura increase, as if Sensei had read my thoughts. Geez, woman! This ability may be useful for starting class, but it's why you can't get a boyfriend!

Classes passed in their normal fashion - mundane and uninteresting as usual. Also as usual, I stopped by the vending machine to get a sweet, sweet MAX coffee. Ah, this was one part of my daily routine I'd never get tired of. Daydreaming about the heavenly sweet flavor of MAX, I didn't notice until I popped the top that they'd introduced a new can design...and it was Christmas-themed. Et tu, Brutae? Oh, all the world conspired against me. Well, I guess they had to make money somehow. MAX did have customers other than me, after all. I'll forgive you this once.

But seriously, Christmas was an annoying season. I wasn't going to run around proclaiming "Bah humbug" to random Christmas shoppers, but the seeping, sodden feeling of artificial joy really irritated me. If the normalfags were gonna celebrate for no particular reason, then do it somewhere out of the way of the rest of us. The job of the loner is to blend into the background, but that gets harder when the background's all festive-colored. Loners stay hidden by being nondescript, unremarkable, and average. A loner's escape tactic is to remain neutral. These are the concepts that my special skill, Stealth Hikki, is based on, and the way that I avoid meaningless confrontations in everyday life. But when everyone is celebrating, and remaining neutral and unremarkable means sticking out, loners have a more difficult job ahead of them. And the reason loners stay out of the way anyway is so they don't ruin the mood. It's all out of consideration for others! So have some consideration for us too!

As I affirmed my conclusion to myself with a determined nod, I realized I had already arrived at the club room. Sliding the door open, I prepared myself for a peaceful afternoon of reading, MAX coffee, and Yukinoshita's customary afternoon tea. But what I found was rather surprising…although I suppose not entirely out of character.

Yuigahama had already arrived and, for some bizarre reason, was prancing about the room in a festive mood, singing to herself. She had in her hands a plastic bag full of mysterious green and red material. Yukinoshita sat in her seat, a large box on the table next to her. Although her face expressed disapproval at Yuigahama's antics, she seemed to be rather amused. The room itself, however, might have been the strangest part. Whatever I may or may not have assumed about the Service Club before, I had always taken for granted that it'd be a rather neutral place, with not much of a high-profile atmosphere. But looking around the room, it was now covered with red ribbons, small silver balls, streamers, and sprigs of a random green plant.

"Errr… What?" I asked, dumbfounded. Yukinoshita looked up, noticing my entrance, and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Yuigahama.

"Oh, Hikki! Look! We're putting up Christmas decorations!"

"Surely that much is obvious, Hikigaya-kun," continued Yukinoshita.

"...I can see that. Why?"

"It seems Hiratsuka-sensei instructed us to decorate the clubroom for the holidays. It's beyond me why she would want us to do it, though," returned Yukinoshita. Seriously, Sensei? For a woman who would spend Christmas Eve eating ramen by herself in downtown Chiba, she sure had a lot of guts to force something like this on us.

"Well, I'm not one to voluntarily submit to doing unnecessary work," I replied. "Why do I have to do this?"

"Consider it a request for the Service Club," a new voice responded as the door banged open once more.

"...why would you force this on us, Sensei?"

"Hmph. I thought you might complain, so I came over to dispel any qualms of yours." Didn't answer my question. "Got it? Hikigaya-kun?" Sensei, you're gripping my shoulder rather hard. I'm afraid this might permanently damage it. Please stop.

"...okay, I got it."

"Great!" She smiled mischievously. "Make sure to put them all up. And while you're at it, why don't you learn something about them too?" Oh, Sensei. Stop lying to yourself and pretending that you're teaching us things. Just find something to do with yourself during the holiday season that isn't bullying your students. And whoever you're with, try not to bully them as well. Then they actually might meet with you more than once.

"Right, so, best to get this over with I suppose," I resignedly sighed. "Did you get that from Hiratsuka-sensei?" I asked Yukinoshita, pointing at the large box in front of her. She nodded.

"It's full of random Christmas decorations. Yuigahama's got some too."

"Hey Yukinon, look at these pretty silver ribbons!" Yuigahama suddenly spoke up. What are you, a dog? You bark when someone calls your name? "Look, I bet you could do up your hair with them!" She rushed over to behind Yukinoshita and began tying up her hair, against her feeble protests. I smirked slightly as I sat down in my usual chair and popped my can of MAX coffee.

"I'm pretty sure those are decorations for the room, not decorations for her hair."

"H-hey! We can use them on Yukinon's hair if we want to! Right, Yukinon?"

"...I don't particularly mind. And I'm rather opposed to Hikigaya-kun's narrow and shortsighted view that things can only be used for their intended purpose. If everyone followed that logic, then we'd have no sticky notes or chocolate chip cookies."

"I don't really get how chocolate chip cookies apply here, but it sounds yummy!" As expected of Yuigahama. Seriously. "And don't you think Yukinon looks good with these hair ribbons?"

"Twintails, eh." I tilted my head to the side. "Makes you look a lot younger. Like if you were in middle scho...yeah it looks great whatever fine," I finished hurriedly, feeling a large amount of killing intent present in the death glare Yukinoshita had directed at me.

"I think I'll take these out, Yuigahama. It seems I must spare the twisted remains of Hikigaya-kun's ego from annihilation. I don't think he could survive losing in test scores to someone who looks younger than him."

"What a selfish justification."

"That wasn't selfish, it was very generous. I'm taking Hikigaya-kun's low self-esteem and his fragile ego into account when making my decision. I'm doing this for your sake."

"But in the end, all selfless deeds are really caused by selfishness. People do things for others because it makes them feel better about themselves. It puts them in a position of relative superiority over the person they're being considerate of and it gives them a feeling of self-righteous satisfaction. The only true selflessness is consideration for someone more powerful than you, or higher in the social landscape, because no feelings of superiority can be derived from that. A loner's generosity is the only true generosity."

"Twisted and self-righteous argumentation as always, Hikigaya-kun."

"Same to you."

"It must be infectious. Perhaps we should quarantine you, Hikigerma-kun."

"I already have the consideration to do that myself. I am a loner after all."

"Heh. So you admit-"

"GUYS!" interrupted Yuigahama. "Shouldn't we finish putting up the decorations? Besides, watching you go back and forth like this is making my neck hurt."

"Fine. Let's get this over with." I sighed and got up from my chair, draining the rest of my MAX coffee in one gulp. Digging around in the mysterious large box from Hiratuka-sensei revealed a few strings of Christmas lights, some tinsel, and more sprigs of that random plant. Yugahama immediately spotted the tinsel.

"Ahaha! What is this stuff? It's so fluffy and sparkly and-ACHOO!" She sneezed as she wrapped her arms in the silvery rope.

"...well, I guess we'll leave the tinsel to Yuigahama then," Yukinoshita spoke with a half-smile on her face. That's a new expression, miss Ice Princess. But save the Yukinon x Yurigahama for later. "I guess I'll get these lights," she continued. So that left me with the random plant, huh. Well, whatever. At least it wasn't too hard to put up.

Soon enough, the light were shining around the corners of the clubroom, and the tinsel decorated the table and the door (and Yuigahama.) Discovering that the plant smelled not unpleasant, I concluded it must be some kind of holiday air freshener and proceeded to tape it across the ceiling above the table. As we sat back down, Yuigahama untangling the strings of tinsel from her blazer and hair, she spotted the plant I was holding.

"Ooh, are those berries, Hikki?" I looked at her in confusion.

"Oh, you mean this plant?" Upon closer inspection, the mysterious air freshener did in fact have clusters of white berries hidden amongst the leaves. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I wonder if they're edible…"

"Whoa there, Yuigahama. Just because something looks like food doesn't mean that it is food. Just take tomatoes, for example. People don't know if they're fruits or vegetables. Well that's because they're neither. And whoever the idiot was that declared them edible, I hope he died of food poisoning."

"Hikigaya-kun is, as per usual, mostly wrong. Tomatoes are scientifically and botanically considered the fruit of the tomato plant, and they are very much edible, having been eaten by native South American civilizations long before the European discovery of the New World."

"As expected of Yukipedia."

"Don't call me that. Anyway, there is a tiny grain of truth in what he's saying, however-"

"See, tomatoes ARE monstrosities."

"-stop interrupting me. But you really shouldn't try things off plants without knowing if it's edible or not first."

"Soooo…is it edible?" Yukinoshita squinted at the plant on the table in front of me. Furrowing her brows, she squirmed in her seat a little.

"I...don't actually know." Huh, so even the great Yukipedia had things it didn't know. "Hikigaya-kun…" a threatening voice warned. Oops, did I say that out loud?

"Well, it shouldn't be too hard to find out what this stuff is," I said, pulling out my cellphone. "That's why we have the wonders of the Internet." Oh mighty Google, I come for waffles!

"Indeed. Hikkimori-kun should obviously be familiar with the conveniently easy solution that is the Web."

"Hey, it's not like I'm an expert or anything… Stop complimenting me, it's too out of character."

"Only you would view that as a compliment."

"Hey guys, what should I search anyway…?"

"Just plug a description into a search engine and it should pull up an article on it or something," I replied offhandedly, already typing the query "green leaves white berries plant" into the search bar.

After a few moments of quiet searching where the only sound was the tapping of our phone keyboards, I finally found a picture of a plant that looked similar to ours. Following the link, I arrived at an online encyclopedia.

"Aha!" I exclaimed...at the exact same time as someone else. Surprised by the voice that had joined my own, I looked up and found myself gazing directly into a pair of cool blue eyes. Fumu, so Yukinoshita had discovered the answer at the same time as I. We glanced away awkwardly. Gah! Just a little eye contact and the voice in my head was starting to sound like Zaimokuza. Jeez, Hachiman, regression is not a suitable coping method in high school.

"A-anyway, it seems this mysterious little plant is mistletoe," I said, holding up the green sprig.

"That's right," continued Yukipedia, not to be outdone. "It seems mistletoe is a parasitic plant of the order Santalales. The berries are poisonous to humans, but not to birds and other animals. So unless you're secretly a bird, Yuigahama, I wouldn't eat that."

"O-oh, good thing I didn't eat it. Thanks for saving my life, Yukinon!" She sprang towards Yukinoshita and gave her a hug. Right, because I was going to let you eat it. The thanks I get…

"A-and you too, Hikki." Yuigahama said softly. Er-yes, that's right! I'm such a considerate person for saving your life! Praise me more!

"Er, well, don't worry about it. You lived, so.." I replied, looking away.

"But still!" Yuigahama suddenly became boisterous again. "Why would Sensei give us a poisonous plant as a Christmas decoration? That's, like, so mean! Right, Yukinon?"

"Perhaps she means it as vengeance upon us for being young when she's already her age and still single," I wryly commented.

"What!? Sensei wouldn't do something like kill us! Even if she is single!" Hey, you're being pretty mean there yourself, Yuigahama.

"No, I'm sure there's a logical explanation. Mistletoe probably has some relation to Christmas that we're not recognizing." Well, now that she mentioned it, that does sound familiar. I was about to pull my phone back out and continue searching, but seeing as how Yukinoshita was already on it, I decided not to bother, and pulled out my book instead and began absentmindedly reading.

A few taps later, she spoke up again. "Here it is. Mistletoe's relevance to Christmas dates back to the Druids, where it was said to bring good luck and ward off evil spirits. In Norse mythology, it was a sign of friendship and peace. In today's Christmas, there is a tradition that when a man and a woman are under the-" Yukinoshita suddenly stopped reading. Surprised, I looked up from my book. To my bafflement, her face had a stunned expression on it and was visibly changing color, from white to green to red.

"What's wrong, Yukinon?" Yuigahama asked. When she was met with no answer, she pulled her chair up next to Yukinoshita's and started silently reading her phone over her shoulder. And abruptly, her mouth dropped open in a surprised O as her face began to flush. What the hell has Yukinoshita got on her phone over there? From their reactions, you'd guess it was some kind of hardcore porn or something. I sighed as I pushed my chair back and got up to walk over.

"What the hell's got you two worked up?" I demanded as I stalked over to Yukinoshita's phone as well.

"W-wait, Hikki! Don't come over here!" Yuigahama was out of breath and her face was slowly turning redder. Don't make that face at me. Seriously, don't. You're disturbing my peace of body and mind. Meanwhile, Yukinoshita slowly turned her head away from me as if she was frozen solid. I swore I heard her joints cracking with frost as she swiveled her neck, but her ears were on fire beneath her raven-black hair.

"The hell. Lemme see that phone at least," I asked. I plucked it out of Yukinoshita's unfeeling fingers and finished reading the article to myself. "In today's Christmas, there is a tradition that when a man and a woman are under the mistletoe together, they share a kiss."

…

…

What.

The HELL.

All the implications of what I just read suddenly flooded in at once as one enormous data stream, causing lag on my mainframe.

Yuigahama snatched the phone back from my stunned hand with a red face and then turned away, as I stood stock still in shock.

Okay. Sort it out, Hachiman. This is one of those times to use your special loner skills: Logical Reasoning.

First: Hiratsuka-sensei had given us some holiday decorations, including an unknown plant.

Unsuspecting, we hung it about the clubroom.

We then learned the true identity of the plant-mistletoe-and its role in Christmas celebrations.

And now…

As one, all three of us frozen in that quiet clubroom slowly looked up at the ceiling. At the plant hanging right above our heads.

Crap.


	3. My Christmas was Wrong as I Expected 2

My Christmas Was Wrong As I Had Expected 2

A wise man once said, "Words are the source of all misunderstandings." Oh wait, that was me. That wise man said something irrelevant about smoke and fools liking high places or something. But anyway, it seems I needed to revise that sentiment, because words weren't the source of the misunderstanding I was quagmired in right now.

What might that situation be? Well, it was one that a normal person would probably be jealous of. But I was no normalfag. No, I, Hikigaya Hachiman, eternal realist, pessimist, and self-proclaimed loner, was trapped under the mistletoe with the only two non-familial girls who acknowledged my existence enough to properly remember my name. For the last time, Miura and Co., it's not Hikitani!

But my proper name's not what's important right now. Right now...I need to get out of here. Out from under this poisonous, invasive, parasitic plant hanging from the ceiling. Tactical retreat! I quickly jumped two, three steps back, away from the mistletoe and the two girls sitting in shock at the table. Right...those two.

Yukinoshita's brain had apparently begun to short-circuit, judging by her flushed but erratically convulsing facial expressions, and her stiff posture made her look like she'd been electrocuted. Yuigahama hurriedly glanced away as soon as I looked over, but her ears just kept getting redder and redder. Dammit, why couldn't words be the only source of misunderstandings after all? Even I, the monster of logic that I was, could have started to misunderstand too, you know?

Well, first priority was to try to clear up those irritating annoyances. I cleared my throat. No reason to be nervous here, none at all. This was simply a slightly awkward situation. "You know, it is just a tradition. It's not a rule or a law or anything. Plus, that's more of a western thing, I think."

Abruptly, Yukinoshita's stiff shoulders stopped shaking and relaxed a bit as she looked up and out the window, still not facing me.

"...Indeed, I believe Hikigaya-kun may be correct for once in his short and miserable life, which I'm sure is a fairly strange experience for him, because it seems as though this rather outrageous custom is traditional of western cultures at Christmastime, which means that even though Japanese citizens have adopted Christmas as a popular and relatively widely celebrated occasion, they do not share the deeper aspects of the holiday, including certain customs, which means that it is utterly unnecessary to follow through here, and in reality it was ultimately only an optional suggestion, which we easily have the capability to deny, in fact-" But she was interrupted by a short giggle from the third person in the room.

"Ahahaha! Yukinon, that's enough already. Don't bash this poor little plant any more than you already have," Yuigahama laughed slightly. Yukinoshita looked away, her ears turning reddish in the light of the sunset.

"...I wasn't bashing it, I was explaining why its presence is irrelevant."

"Aww! Poor little mistletoe, she didn't mean it like that!" She stood on her chair and started pulling down the sprigs taped to the roof and then...giving them all a hug? Sigh. Never change, Yuigahama. Never change. Abruptly, she turned to me and gave me a look, her expression unreadable.

"What? I didn't insult the plants." Actually, that plant is a parasite that lives off of another plant without contributing anything back. Wait, that sounds suspiciously like my dream of a house-husband. I guess you're all right, little plant! And I never said I planned to become a productive member of society anyway. Society's the problem, not me. All those hypocritical, contradicting, halfhearted people all putting up facades to further their own ends.

"Hikki...you know…"

"Actually, these guys have the right idea. Living off a bigger plant, not having to produce their own energy, they're winning at life."

"Hikki, you idiot."

"Hey, don't look down on my strategy for navigating the evils of society."

"And just how will becoming a parasite help you navigate the evils of society, Hikigerma-kun?" interrupted Yukinoshita.

"Oi, oi, you're making it sound so bad. I'm just doing what I can in a society that crushes the low even lower. And besides, parasites and germs are completely different." You know, Yukinoshita, you don't have to take offense at literally everything I say. Seriously, name one time where she's actually agreed with me.

…

That...doesn't count.

"Hikki?" Huh? I looked up quickly. "Aren't you going to insult Yukinoshita back?" Er...what? What kind of question is that?

"He obviously acknowledges that my scientifically accurate rebuttal to his germs and parasites comment was superior to anything his science-feeble mind could come up with."

"Oh...I missed that part, actually." Distracted. What can I say? "Just goes to show you how little worth your sciencey rebuttals have."

"Just goes to show you how short your attention span is. Like a dog." She glanced at Yuigahama. "Well...not really a dog, but..."

"Hey! What was that look, Yukinon? Are you saying that I have a dog's attention span? So mean!"

Yukinoshita averted her eyes. "I never said that…"

"Yeah, but you probably thought it! You're so mean, Yukinon!" Wow, the range of Yuigahama's insults is really impressive. Apparently all she can do is call people mean.

"...you're right, that was a bit too harsh. I'm sorry, Yuigahama." Well, I suppose coming from cat-loving Yukinoshita, calling someone a dog is quite a serious insult. Wait, isn't there something more impressive here!? Like the fact that THAT Yukinoshita apologized? Apparently mystified by our stunned looks, Yukinoshita quirked an eyebrow. "What? Even I apologize when I've gone too far or am in the wrong." Hmm, she's surprisingly considerate...well, to Yuigahama at least. "It's just that I almost never find myself in the wrong, so I never have to apologize." I take back what I said, she's still really arrogant. Give me back my admiration already!

"Anyway, we should probably take down the rest of this joke of a Christmas decoration," I pointed out, standing up on a chair so I could reach. As I pulled the plants down, I wondered what the chances are that Sensei actually knew what this stuff was for. Probably pretty low, considering who she was...although she did have a mischievous side to her. But still, this seemed a bit too clever for Sensei to have come up with. More like, it wasn't really her style. Too calculated. Sensei liked solving things with brute force, and I can attest to that. So it probably wouldn't hurt to poke a little fun back at her…from a safe distance, of course. I pitched my idea to the other two.

"Hey, instead of discarding the mistletoe, we should give it back to Sensei." They looked at me suspiciously.

"Hikigaya-kun…"

"Hikki, what are you plotting…?"

I felt the corners of my mouth creeping up into a rotten smile. See, nobody would dare kiss this face. "Oh, nothing. I just though Hiratsuka-sensei might like an early Christmas gift." They looked at me warily. Then something seemed to strike Yuigahama.

"Hey, that's not fair!" What? How is it not fair to poke fun at a person who regularly punches you in the gut? I looked at Yuigahama in confusion. "Why does Hiratsuka-sensei get-" She stopped suddenly. "N-never mind. Just… Stupid Hikki." Hey! That's twice now that you've called me an idiot! I won't stand for this! Especially coming from Yuigahama. Even I have my pride, you know.

As Yukinoshita and Yuigahama packed the mistletoe back into the box we got it from, I pulled out a blank sheet of paper and a pen from my bag. Smirking rottenly as I bent over the table, I wrote a small note to Sensei, signed "the service club." I then quickly stuck it in the box, and we closed the lid. Finally, I wrote on the outside, "Merry Christmas from the service club!" and clicked my pen shut, satisfied.

"So, master plotter Hikigaya-kun, I suppose I'll deliver the parcel to Sensei when I return the key to the clubroom," Yukinoshita proposed as she and Yuigahama began noisily packing up to leave. I thought for a second, then shook my head.

"We don't want to be in the same building when she opens this. I'll deliver it to her house later." All sounds of packing bags ceased abruptly. "What? It's not going to explode or anything." Well, I think Sensei might though.

"Hikigaya-kun…"

"...you have her home address?"

...why does that matter? "Frustrated by the fact that I have more knowledge than you?" I countered. Well, I guess Yuigahama must be pretty used to it, actually. Yukinoshita looked at me with a strangely irritated expression. I guess I was right, huh. As usual.

"No, but it's rather creepy for a student to have the home address of their teacher, Hikkistalker-kun." Oh, come on, Yukinoshita, get on your game! That's the most pathetic insult I've heard since "idiot, nincompoop, Hachiman!" Actually, that time was pretty adorable since Komachi said it.

"Don't question my vengeance methods. I've had the rough outline of several plans in the works for a while now," I cackled evilly. Yuigahama backed away slowly and hid behind Yukinoshita.

"Yukinon, Hikki's kinda scary right now…"

"My only regret is that it would be far too dangerous to be close enough to see the expression on her face when she opens this."

"Hikki, what did you even put in there? Wasn't it just a short note saying Merry Christmas?"

"Oh, Yuigahama. You poor, innocent soul. I had to exact some revenge for this afternoon's fiasco." I stopped quickly. Crap, I shouldn't have brought it up. Now I was conscious of it. Trying to gloss it over, I continued, "...and for all those times she threatened me with her fists to make me do stuff. All those papers I wrote were well-reasoned and backed up with facts and logic, but she still made me rewrite them…"

"As if anything coming from you would be well-reasoned and logical, Hikigaya-kun."

"Oh, come on, Yukinoshita. You agreed with me earli-er, that is, well, never mind." Crap, I did it again! I looked away quickly, trying not to think about it. I'll have no misunderstandings anymore. I promised myself this back then, and it is what I will continue to live by today. To misunderstand is a choice one makes-I chose to not misunderstand. I never make assumptions, never jump to conclusions. And I'm never disappointed.

"A-anyway, let's get this box to Hiratsuka-sensei. Club over for today, miss president?" I looked over at Yukinoshita and found staring right at me. She awkwardly looked away, then hurriedly picked up her stuff and rushed out of the clubroom in a whirl. "...right, I guess so then…" I finished to myself. I turned to the remaining member of the service club still standing in that half-lit room. Her face glowed slightly red in the feeble light of the sunset through the window. "Time to go, I guess…?" I suggested to the still figure. Yuigahama nodded, but then, twisting her fingers together at her waist, she glanced down and breathed some quiet words.

"You know, Hikki… I… I wouldn't have m-minded…" She trailed off, fidgeting in silence. The wind whistled past outside, the gray December clouds filtering the light of the red winter sun as it streamed through the windows of that quiet clubroom. I shivered slightly as the cold began to seep into my still frame.

Abruptly, Yuigahama snapped her head back up and tried to give me a bright smile. "Come on, Hikki, you're gonna make Yukinon wait!" She grabbed her bag off of the chair behind me and hurried outside to Yukinoshita. I stood for a moment by myself in the middle of the room. This club, where we were supposed to help others move forward with their lives. Perhaps one day we'd move forward too.

...

Wishful thinking. "Supposed to move forward" didn't necessarily mean it would happen. Reality meant facades, fronts, stagnation, misdirection, and misunderstandings. I knew all of these things all too well, and I wouldn't fall for anything-or anyone-like that again. Just because it might be true, just because you hoped it to be true, just because it seemed to be true-in all likelihood, you were wrong. Happy endings to fairy tales were nothing but that-a fairy tale that never existed, a fantasy that reality would never allow. Meetings inevitably lead to partings. Life inevitably leads to death. Hoping inevitably leads to disappointment. That's why I would never be fooled again.

That's why I would always run away.

And I was a pretty damn good runner.

I grabbed my bag and walked out of the dark clubroom.

Epilogue

The package had shown up mysteriously on her doorstep on a Saturday afternoon. Shizuka Hiratsuka had gone out to answer the door for an old friend only to nearly trip flat on her face over the box on her front porch. After inviting her visitor inside, she picked up the battered cardboard box and brought it inside. It was surprisingly light for such a large box, and she wondered who it was from.

"Did you see who dropped this off?" she asked her guest as she popped open her third drink of the day.

"Nope, it was sitting there when I arrived. Good job almost tripping over it though."

"Hey, I bet you moved it there on purpose so that I'd trip over it. That's just the kind of person you are."

"Fufufu. I was expecting you to get this box back eventually. That's why I came today."

"Get this box back..?" Shizuka asked, confused. But then she made out the thin pen marks on the top of the box. _Merry Christmas from the Service Club._

"Oh, those cheeky kids." She ripped the box open and sure enough, they had returned all the mistletoe she'd sent them to decorate with. "Ahahaha! Looks like your plan failed, Haruno-san. Those kids are more stubborn than you give them credit for."

"Oh, Shizuka-chan, I wasn't really expecting them to just go for it. That would be boring."

"Well, they sure have some nerve to send it back to me as a Christmas present. Look, they even attached a note." She picked up the paper with the message scrawled across it in familiar handwriting.

 _Merry Christmas, Hiratsuka-sensei. I trust we find you in good health, as you looked just fine yesterday. We found that all three of us regrettably had certain allergies to this plant that you sent us to decorate with-coughing, sneezing, morally opposed, etc. Since you went to the trouble of procuring this, we figured we should at least send it back to you. Happy holidays._

 _Sincerely,_

 _The service club._

"Or so he says," Shizuka muttered. "That Hikigaya, I'd recognize his handwriting anywhere. Do you know why it's become burned into my skull? Because I've read at least twice as many papers from him as from the other students."

"That's because you keep making him redo them."

"If you read them as his teacher, you'd make him redo them too." Shizuka paused. "Actually, you probably wouldn't. In fact, I don't ever want to imagine you as that kid's teacher again. He's got enough hassle in his life."

"Sounds like you're pretty fond of him, eh, Shizuka-chan?" Haruno teased.

"I'm pretty fond of all of them, honestly. They tend to grow on you." She looked back at the letter. "Oh, there's a postscript."

 _P.S: Hiratsuka-sensei, you might want to try hanging these up around your neighborhood and going on walks. Maybe then you'll actually be able to meet somebody._

At the nearby Chiba weather station, the attendant on duty for monitoring the instruments woke up from his nap. Confused, he checked his watch. His shift wasn't over yet, and neither had his alarm gone off. Then he realized the beeping was coming from the seismograph in the corner. As he apprehensively approached the machine, the floor began to noticeably quiver, and then shake. Frightened, he ran to the machine and gazed at it. The tiny little needle was vibrating in larger and larger waves across the ticker paper like a terrified little mouse.

The earthquake that afternoon befuddled scientists. It seemed to defy all tectonic plate movement measures and predictions…but a magnitude 4.7 earthquake was no small deal.

The smoking remains of Hiratsuka-sensei's rage lay scattered across the floor of her foyer. Charred and torn slabs of cardboard lay spread across the ground, and the singed leaves of the mistletoe rustled as Haruno picked up the torn halves of the note from the floor. She chuckled slightly, "Oh, Hikigaya." He would have hell to pay when the presently dead drunk Shizuka Hiratsuka returned to school the next Monday, but that wasn't Haruno's problem.

"You may have been stubborn this time, but that just makes me want to play with you all the more." Haruno licked her lips slightly. "You're not very good at science, Hikigaya-kun. Newton's third law. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. I'll play with you until you have no choice but to fight back."

And then she smiled. Not the fake, convenient smile that she showed everyone. Not the cold, disinterested smile she showed those she didn't find interesting. No, she smiled a genuine smile, one she never showed anyone, one with a fair amount of calculating playfulness, but also with more caring and affection than she would ever realize. "And when you fight back, surely you can move forward."

 **Hey again guys, ImaNuke here.**

 **I hope you liked the second half of my two-shot (It's like a oneshot but two parts).**

 **Initially when I came up with this idea, a similar scene to this is what popped into my head, with Hachiman leaping back and being like 'lolnope.' But then I got fixated on this idea that there should be a happy ending, and I tried to write in a proper mistletoe kiss… Well, let's just say it didn't work. There were some characters in that story, but they weren't Hikigaya Hachiman and co. So I decided to go back to what would really happen, and I think it came out alright.**

 **Man, I never get tired of writing Hachiman sophistry.**

 **Thanks for reading, see you in my next fanfic.**


	4. What Yuigahama Yui Saw That Day

What Yuigahama Yui Saw That Day

Perhaps it was an illusion. A trick of the light, a product of her dopamine-overloaded brain. But if it was real-and Yuigahama personally believed it was-then it was something to be seen once in a lifetime. What she saw that day was less likely than a smile from Yukinoshita, stranger than a humble Miura, and rarer than a shiny Chansey. And she would never forget it.

They had met that cold winter morning in front of Chiba station, both Hikigayas standing together under the monorail breathing puffs of frosty breath as they waited. Yuigahama was slightly late, as she wanted to make sure she was ready before she left. Not that she was nervous or anything, no way, they were just going out to buy a present for Yukinoshita. Plus, as Yuigahama recalled from the day before, Komachi was going to accompany them along on their da-outing, it was an outing.

After the traditional "Yahallo!" the group made their way over to one of Chiba's many malls. As they walked and conversed, Yuigahama discovered that Komachi apparently shared an interest in fashion and clothes. Although, that was just with Komachi-whenever Yuigahama looked over, Hikki was dragging his feet behind them, so far back that an observer probably couldn't even tell that they were all a group. Puffing her cheeks slightly, Yuigahama decided to ignore him if he was going to ignore them, and immersed herself in the unbridled joy of shopping.

What seemed like a few moments later, Yuigahama found herself abandoned. Glancing around, she could find neither hide nor hair of Komachi and Hikki. As she wandered with her arms full of clothes that she'd been looking at and trying on, she suddenly spotted Hikki coming around from a nearby store.

"Huh?" she asked. "Where did Komachi-chan go?"

"She wasn't with you?"

"I thought she was with you, Hikki…" Yuigahama replied as she leaned forward and searched Hikki's face for signs that he was lying. But why would Hikki lie about Komachi's disappearance? Wait, more importantly, it was now just the two of them… Yuigahama groaned as she tried to put the ensuing thoughts out of her head. Change the subject, change the subject… She looked down at the clothes in her hand. "I'm..kinda stuck right now, so I wanted Komachi-chan to take a look… Hikki, do you mind?"

"Only if you're okay with me not being useful," he grudgingly replied.

"Yeah-Wait! I need you to be useful here though…"

"We'll see."

Yuigahama had tried on a cardigan she'd picked out, but after Hikki realized that Yukinon probably wouldn't wear it to school, she decided to get something else for her. The reason she carefully folded and carried the cardigan under her arm was-well, she was short on cardigans, right? Probably? It couldn't hurt to get a new one. And Hikki said it looked good on h-er, well, that's not...anything to do with…

Anyway! Find something for Yukinon! As Yuigahama rummaged through the shelves, she had spotted an adorable kitty mitten that looked just like a cat's paw.

"So cute! This might be really fun if I use this to play with Sabure!" Pulling it on, she also put on the matching dog mitten, complete with an adorable dog face. "It's kinda hard to put on…"

"That's just how mittens are," Hikki replied.

As she looked at the mittens on her hands curiously, Yuigahama suddenly got an impulse. "Take this!" she said as she play-bit Hikki's hand with the dog mitten. "Nom!"

"H-how dare you," Hikki retorted with a reddish tinted face. Yuigahama couldn't help but blush too as she slipped her mittened hand away and took the pair of them off, looking anywhere but at Hikki. Wearing winter gloves inside really made the temperature go up, didn't it?

But Hikki had pointed out that Yukinon might not wear the mittens outside because of the design. Yuigahama concurred, so after a bit of searching, she suggested a pair of indoor cat-themed socks as an alternative. Not only did they look like a cat's legs and feet, they even had a nonskid sole on them that looked like a cat. Since she would wear them inside her house, they didn't have to worry about the design being a problem, so Yuigahama had decided to buy it and they proceeded to check out. With the mittens and cardigan of course.

But then Hikki had needed a gift to give Yukinon. Beginning their search in a store of Yuigahama's recommendation, the pair intended to look around for anything that might catch Yukinon's fancy. But then, it happened. Yuigahama ended up at the fateful spinning rack, covered with products of all shapes and colors, styles and designs: the eyewear exhibit.

Yuigahama had furtively picked out what looked like-in her opinion-a smart-looking pair of glasses. She pulled them on sneakily, then tapped Hikki on the shoulder.

"Hmhm. Do I look smart or what?" Hikki looked at her with his head tilted in confusion for an incredulous second, then replied,

"You're already funny in the head if you're equating glasses to intelligence, you know…"

"Shaddup, you dummy," she had pouted as she went back to spinning the rack about, checking out glasses and designs. Hikki joined her, looking at the various types of glasses on display. Then Yuigahama had the idea.

"Hey, Hikki, you should try one on. Like this one," she said, holding one up to his face.

"Ehhhh…" Hikki hesitated, but Yuigahama forced them into his hand. He sighed regretfully, then turned around as she waited impatiently for him to put them on. After a brief moment-was he psyching himself up or something?-he pushed the glasses up his nose. Unfortunately, it seemed Yuigahama had chosen poorly.

"Totally bad!"

"Oh, shut up."

"Okay, next is… This one!"

"No."

"Don't be such a party pooper. Here!"

Yuigahama had shoved the second pair of glasses into his hand. She had grabbed them on a whim off the shelf, trying to cover for the failure that the last pair of glasses had been. But when he pushed them onto his face and turned around, Yuigahama was struck speechless as her mouth fell open in shock.

His EYES.

They were NORMAL.

She blinked once, convinced it was the glare reflecting off the glasses or some sort of giddy hallucination. Yuigahama didn't remember eating anything strange in the past few days, but there it stood before her, no doubt about it. The dead-fish-eyes boy had no dead fish eyes.

Instead, a healthy-looking pair of round hazel eyes gazed back at her questioningly from behind the frames of the glasses. She lost herself in the soft green-gray orbs, specks of gold dotted intermittently about. In fact, Yuigahama realized as she swallowed with difficulty, Hikki looked unusually…Yuigahama felt herself slowly turning redder.

"Really, cat got your tongue?" Hikki questioned, with a look that wondered if she had anything to say. But with his real eyes, the glance was far softer than usual. Yuigahama almost keeled over at the shy, concerned expression he gave her. But she forced herself to look away from his ador-er, his, um, his eyes, and instead focused on his shoes.

"Ah, no, no, it's nothing. It's just, kinda surprising how good you look with them, maybe." She wrung her hands nervously.

A pause.

"...Gee...thanks," he replied quietly.

In the end, Yuigahama made several purchases that day. She bought the socks and the mittens for Yukinoshita. She bought the cardigan. Because it fit, okay? And finally, she bought that pair of glasses. After she made sure to swipe it covertly while Hikki wasn't looking, she stashed it in her pocket with a knowing look at the cashier and a finger over her upturned lips.

Because maybe someday, she'd tell him what was really behind those glasses.

Maybe someday, that once-in-a-lifetime experience could happen twice.

 **Herro fanfiction readers! ImaNuke here again. I was rereading this wonderful wonderful series again and when I got to this part in volume 10, this idea just popped into my head. Honestly, I love writing one shots for Oregairu. I mean seriously, with these characters, you never run out of fun to be had. Btw, happy (late) birthday to Yukinoshita, who had it on the third of this month. Wow, look at me, wishing fictional characters a happy birthday. No, I'm not a chunni! This white lab coat belongs to my brother's… friend's… uncle's… second cousin! Anyway, hope you enjoyed this little drabble. Thanks for reading.**


	5. Science

**Understanding the concepts in this fan fiction may require a bit of background knowledge in scientific concepts. So if you don't understand something, go bow down to the mighty Google [1]. Or consult Yukipedia. That works too.**

Science

Hikigaya Hachiman doesn't know much about science.

This assessment is based on the factual data relating to his subpar scores on the sciences exams. Since he and I are complete opposites, on contrasting sides of the social spectrum-me, too far above, him, too far below-I'm reluctant to in any way affirm his achievements. However, I always listen to reason, so credit must be given regarding his relatively satisfactory scores in modern Japanese and literature. But relative to his third-place finish on the language exams-pff, third place-well, relative to that score, his science exams aren't even in the same 1-man ballpark. So it can be reasonably concluded that for a self-proclaimed "high-stat" individual, he knows surprisingly little about science.

Or so I thought.

Hikigaya Hachiman shouldn't know much about science. He doesn't know that the 18th column on the periodic table [2] never forms bonds with any other elements. He doesn't know that they prefer to stay alone, drifting free of any kind of connections. He certainly doesn't know that they're commonly called the Noble gases, and are some of the most stable elements in the universe. And yet he continues to drift in isolation, never bothering with bonds or relations, in order to retain his stability.

Hikigaya Hachiman shouldn't know much about science. He doesn't know that proteins are composed of polar and nonpolar molecules, nor does he know anything about how nonpolar molecules demonstrate extreme aversion to water [3]. He has no idea how proteins become twisted and warped as the nonpolar molecules force themselves inside the structure of the protein, protecting themselves from any threats present in the outside world. And yet, he turns away from outside interaction anyway, contorting his personality until none would dare approach him, and he would dare to approach no one.

Hikigaya Hachiman shouldn't know much about science. He doesn't know that pressure of a gas is a measurement of the force it applies per unit area on its container. He has no clue that temperature and pressure are positively correlated [4]. And yet, he created the nickname "Ice Queen," unaware of the implications he was making regarding the lack of force that I can exert on my container.

Hikigaya Hachiman shouldn't know much about science. He has no clue what the scientific definition of work is. He doesn't know that work can only exist if the force applied and displacement moved are parallel. He has no idea that when force applied is at odds with the actual direction of movement, nothing is accomplished. And yet he still insists on only taking action by the most efficient method.

Hikigaya Hachiman shouldn't know much about science. He has no idea that the first law of thermodynamics states that the total energy of an isolated system is constant and can never increase. He doesn't know that it says that you can never make a profit, and can never get ahead. He has no clue that the second law of thermodynamics states that in any closed system, the amount of energy unavailable to do work will only ever increase or stay the same. He has no idea that it says you can never gain anything on an investment of energy. And yet he still insists that "to work is to lose."

Hikigaya Hachiman shouldn't know much about science. So then how is he still right?

But Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science. He doesn't realize that in an electrical circuit, it's the negative charges that actually do work [5]. He doesn't know that it's the negative particles that actually move. He doesn't realize that in regular matter, it's the electrons that go and actually accomplish something. So he continues to selflessly provide the real power for the positive people around him.

Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science. He doesn't know that a magnetic monopole can never truly exist-it always has another pole, somewhere [6]. So he continues to insist that he'll always be alone, that he'll never have a chance, not even as friends with someone, much less anything more.

Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science. He doesn't know that laws of nature must have symmetry to be correct [7]. So he continues to believe in the fact that he's the only one to know what it feels like in a situation even remotely like his.

Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science. He doesn't know that in a nuclear fission reaction, only a few neutrons are required to build up a chain reaction that can produce over a thousand megawatts of power. So he continues to believe that as just one person, he can ultimately do nothing, and lives his life with the lowest expectations of himself.

Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science. He's never known that empathy is a genetic quality, derived from certain chromosomes having to do with our primate-related genetic makeup [8]. He has no clue that sneezing is related to this gene as well. And so he continues to curse his allergies when he explodes into a sneezing fit right after I lightly do so.

Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science. Although he may be familiar with the concept that "the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell," he doesn't know that the mitochondria was discovered to originally be a foreign bacteria that lived symbiotically in the cell [9]. He doesn't know how all the other organelles in the cell, and indeed, the entire organism of the human body, is dependent on the existence and assistance of this outsider. So he continues to believe that "Really, I didn't do anything."

Hikigaya Hachiman really doesn't know much about science.

But of all the things he doesn't know, most of all...

He's never realized that opposites attract.

 **Footnotes:**

 **[1] /ErZIT1EpbOk**

 **[2] Helium, neon, argon, etc. Aka the noble gases.**

 **[3] Molecular structure of proteins**

 **[4] Amonton's Law**

 **[5] Electrons are charge carriers because protons are bound to atomic nuclei.**

 **[6] Gauss' Law**

 **[7] Invariance principles, such as T-symmetry and event symmetry.**

 **[8] Oxytocin A versus oxytocin G**

 **[9] Mitochondria were initially a bacteria that became part of our cell's structure eons ago in the evolutionary channel.**

 **Greetings fanfiction readers! ImaNuke here again, presenting...another oneshot! As someone who knows a bit more about science than Hikigaya, I couldn't help but see these connections as I was reading and laughing to myself at their potential. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little** **drabble and as always, thanks for reading.**


	6. Knock, Sensei!

Knock, Sensei!

Common courtesy.

Shizuka Hiratsuka had obviously heard the phrase before. She knew what it meant-after all, she was a language teacher. But she had never really considered how it applied to her.

As one of the more delinquent teachers at Sobu High, Hiratsuka-sensei often took various liberties with her actions. She wore a knee-length lab coat, smoked outside of school, snuck out on field trips to eat ramen, and threatened students-well, just one student, really-with her fists. As a young teacher-a YOUNG teacher, got that? Young!-she felt rather close to her students, a sort of peerwise familiarity where she could relate to them and they to her. But as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt, and so Sensei often ignored more menial demands of her students, such as protests to not have to rewrite this essay. Ah, that kid. One day, he'd get it.

But the menial demand that Sensei ignored this time around was even simpler. She had done so before, with little to no fear of retribution, and so she had planned to keep doing so. Why would she not?

Thinking back on it, she was aware of the situation to a certain extent. She was familiar with their daily activities as the club advisor, and she knew they weren't on any major assignments at the moment. As her homeroom teacher, she was aware that one of the girls was home with a slight cold, and she was really just planning to stop in to see how they were doing. No concrete goal for coming, just a general idea to pop in to check on-admittedly-her favorite students in the school.

Ah, but that menial demand from the iciest sculpture at Sobu. That trivial request of common courtesy. The first thing she had said to Hiratsuka-sensei on that fateful day when that place's membership had doubled.

Just like back then, Shizuka had entered with her typical dramatic flair, flourishing the door open and striding into the spare room, bathed in afternoon sunlight.

Just like back then, she had opened her mouth to address the two uniquely extraordinary social misfits that she'd brought to that place.

Just like back then, she'd smiled as she contemplated how it would all turn out.

And then her jaw dropped.

It seemed that it had, in fact, turned out alright.

As Hikigaya Hachiman and Yukinoshita Yukino pulled their lips apart delicately, the latter turned toward Hiratsuka and smiled slightly.

That common courtesy.

"Knock, Sensei."

 **Hey guys, ImaNuke here again with a ridonkulously short 1-shot. Like, this is about ¼ of a shot. Maybe less. It kinda happened like this:**

 ***reads sentence on Wikipedia: She [Hiratsuka] also never remembers to knock before entering the Service Club's classroom, much to Yukino's chagrin.***

 ***Thinks: Heh heh heh…***

 ***Makes 1-shot***

 ***Dayum, son, this is shorter than Hagimura Suzu***

 **Well, I hope you kinda appreciated it. All 400 and somethin words. Anyway, as far as continuing this collection goes, I do have the next chapter planned (it's also really short) but I'm open to suggestions for lightweight oneshots that you guys wanna make. After all, writing oregairu fanfiction is super fun and I just need ideas to write about. ;) Well, have a good one and as always, thanks for reading.**


	7. Perplexed Musings of an Apathetic Loner

**Try to guess what inspired me to write this little drabble...if you can. Sorry if it sucks, I typed it in about an hour at 1 in the morning. What a pro. *sarcasm.***

Perplexed Musings of an Apathetic Loner

Some people say I'm a pessimist.

Perhaps that's true. After all, I tend to not have unreasonable, rainbows-and-sunshine, naively optimistic expectations. Although I would prefer the term "realist," the glass is clearly halfway empty, and there's no denying that.

Some people say I'm an antisocial.

That's not strictly true per se. After all, it's not like I'm incapable of holding a conversation with people. I get along with people like my little sister just fine. It's just that, since I'm always alone, I never really need to be sociable. Plus, as I'd discovered long ago, it's much simpler to be alone. No need to worry about social expectations, unspoken hints, facades, fronts, or misunderstandings. Honestly, it's just more peaceful to be alone.

Some people say that I'm an existentialist.

Perhaps this is true to some degree. After all, I don't have naive expectations of my life. Having meaning in one's life is really entirely subjective. People assign meaning to insignificant things they do or accomplish all the time. The idea of youth is something completely immaterial, forged by the collective riajuu consciousness of society, with no real meaning in and of itself.

But there's one tenet of existentialism that I don't exactly agree with.

Existentialists don't believe in a higher power.

Nuh-uh, I say.

You forget.

The gods of romantic comedy.

...Well, I say that, but do I really believe in them? No, of course not. They are false gods, created by the idealistic vision of society of what the world should be like. But that doesn't mean that you can't be fooled by them.

And so, I, Hikigaya Hachiman, have developed a plan. A strategy. An assortment of battle tactics. A guide, if you will. The Loner's Guide to Avoiding the Wrath of the Gods of Romcom.

"Know your enemy, know yourself, and you will win a hundred battles." Sun Tzu's words from the Art of War ring true in this instance. In order to avoid these malicious and devious gods, we must first anticipate their actions.

Basically, the gods of romcom have two main ways to screw with unsuspecting youths. Firstly is the so-called "small event." A passing word, look, or even an accidental touch. Picking up a dropped eraser. A small compliment about what they're wearing or their new glasses or something. A charged moment when they're, I dunno, bandaging your leg in the infirmary. Do not misunderstand, however: it is all an illusion. No matter how much importance you may attach to that small event, the other person unquestionably thought nothing of it. Whatever sense of romance you may have imagined was just that-pure imagination. And to preserve whatever sense of dignity as a person that you may possess, you should always always ALWAYS keep those misunderstandings to yourself. Source: me.

The second tactic of theirs to avoid is the predictably named "large event." The idea is that one would supposedly advance their imaginary hopes of a relationship by working with the object of their affections. If you are, for example, assigned to be class rep with a girl from your class, don't push it. If you are working on a festival committee with some girl you know, don't even think about it. If you're assigned to work with the student council on some kind of collaboration project with another school, don't mind it when you're repeatedly shot down when you weren't even trying anything. Once again, comrades in arms: do not be fooled! These devious deities of destruction will definitely derail your desperate dreams of youth! Wow, all this ranting is making me sound like a friggin chuuni, I should really stop…

But there are several surefire methods to prevent any of these things from affecting your peace of mind. A preferred tactic of mine is simply avoid all social contact using one of my 108 loner skills: pretending to sleep. When one pretends to sleep, nobody expects them to do anything exciting, and they simply fade into the background of the classroom.

Which leads me to my next solution, another of my 108 loner skills: Stealth Hikki. As a loner, one gains the passive ability to be simply dismissed as unimportant by those around them. Slouching, walking slowly, eyes cast down, hands in pockets-trademarks of my Stealth Hikki skill.

Really, when it comes down to it, the best way to avoid the gods of romcom is to avoid social interaction, period. I am extremely resistant to leaving my house unless absolutely necessary, such as for school. Going places is a chore and unnecessary, and I'm much happier comfortably reclining on my couch, Kakamura at my feet, playing my PS Vita or watching TV. Why would anyone want to go into the outside world? As I thought, househusband is the perfect occupation for me.

But really, there are lots of traps and pitfalls to avoid when dealing with the gods of romantic comedy.

Don't be acquainted with any type of meddling person who constantly tries to trick you out of your safe and comfortable house with "Onii-chan" appeals.

Don't get involved with rich, powerful, sadistic, beautiful, too-perfect onee-sans. They're always way too much trouble.

Don't try to play the hero. The stereotype of the knight in shining armor is as dead as feudal Europe was after the Black Plague. In this democratic world, the concept of good is a discussion, not an absolute, [1] and if you try to please all, you shall end by pleasing none.

Don't have a teacher with a sidelong interest in your social well-being who gets her way with her fists.

Oh and most of all?

Don't get forced into an unnecessary club where, on a daily basis, you have to deal with two unfairly pretty girls that you'll never have a chance with.

Because if that happens, well…

Your youth romantic comedy will be wrong as I had expected.

 **Hiya guys, ImaNuke here again. To address reviewers wondering about ch 4 (Science), yeah guys that was Yukino ;) And that review from Yuji-kun was totally spot-on ;;) Anyway, for those of you still trying to guess what inspired me to write this chapter, spoiler alert because I'm gonna tell you now…**

 **Yeah, I was actually trying to come up with an idea about what kind of story to write. I guess that makes me the devilish god of romcom in this case, eh? DANCE, MY LITTLE PUPPETS! DANCE! Well, I was sort of classifying fanfiction into categories in order to try and see what type I should write, and that idea developed into a oneshot about 8man's musings on the topic. Well played, me.**

 **Speaking of spoilers, guess who just saw the new batman v superman movie? (That was a rhetorical question.) Actually, I'm just really hyped about the "How it should have ended" that they're gonna make, featuring superhero cafe! To the Maxx! (Coffee). Dayum, that double pun tho.**

 **Okay, I'm done.**

 **If you read all the way through this, grats. You must have been reeeeeaaaally bored.**

 **I still could use oneshot ideas too, so convert some of that boredom energy into creativity and feed me prompts. Lol.**

 **Catch you next time, and as always, thanks for reading**.


	8. Don't Get Around Much Anymore

**Something a bit longer than the little character introspections I've been putting up recently...**

Don't Get Around Much Anymore

Daily routines are agathokakological. That's a Yuigahama-proof word that just means something that's both good and evil. Of course, the evil of the daily routine is that it tends to suck the meaning out of life. Faced with the same mundane and trivial tasks repeatedly, day after day, one tends to lose the significance of anything beyond their own little cubicle. Basically, it makes people into soul-sucked corporate slaves.

But of course, there is also good to having a daily routine. Humans are creatures of habit, after all, and thrive on repetition of carefully carved niches in their lives. Perhaps that's why corporate slaves are able to bear their dismal and tedious jobs without dying of boredom. Admittedly, however, repetition and habits brings a certain sense of comfort or security. Things like Yukinoshita's daily serving of tea, or my solitary bike ride home each day, chased by the winds of the sunset.

That's why, when humans' habits are interrupted, they feel a certain sense of discomfort. Having been jostled out of their complacent stasis by some foreign or unexpected source, they are often put off-balance by something that shouldn't be there, or perhaps by something that should be there, but wasn't.

Today when I walked into the clubroom, both of these were the case.

Opening the sliding door, I firstly noticed a conspicuous absence of a certain Ice Queen. Usually about this time, she would already be in the clubroom, chilling in her seat by the window, reading a book-probably some difficult novel in English-or perhaps preparing tea for herself and Yuigahama. And me too, I guess, although I basically just got to drink the extra. But today, Yukinoshita was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, a rather unexpected object had appeared in the clubroom. Rolled against the front wall of the clubroom, a small upright piano sat nonchalantly, a piano bench positioned in front of it. _Seriously? I would have expected Yukinoshita to turn into a cat, not a piano_. I strolled curiously over to the new arrival, pulling open the keyboard cover and inspecting the ivories. I vaguely remembered taking some piano lessons when I was younger, at the encouragement of my parents. Of course, I hadn't practiced that much, so they stopped sending me to lessons after a year or so. But I was still curious how much I could remember from back when I had taken lessons. After glancing furtively around to make sure that I was definitely alone in here-nope, Yukinoshita had not, in fact, reappeared out of thin air-I tentatively began to finger the keys.

An interesting fact concerning the Japanese language: it, along with many other East Asian languages, is very musically phonetic, utilizing lots of inflection and pitch changes in voice during normal speech. This so called "pitch-accent" language, as well as languages such as Chinese and Vietnamese, which are "tonal languages," familiarize speakers more with pitch. Thus, especially compared to many other Western languages like English, means that Japanese native speakers have a disproportionately high percentage of people with absolute pitch, more commonly called perfect pitch. This is the ability to recognize notes or tones and be able to name them and also sing or play them accurately and in tune.

I don't think I have perfect pitch, and I don't have a terribly large interest in music. Nor do I really know how to play the piano. But there was a song I was listening to this morning with my earbuds, so I tried picking it out on the old, faded monochromatic keys. It was a slower jazz tune… Went something like this, I think… Maybe…

I don't know how long I sat there, on the chipped wooden piano bench, vaguely picking away with inexperienced fingers at at tune I could scarcely remember. But I sure woke up when when two light bass chords chimed their way into harmony next to my left hand. I stopped playing, surprised.

"No, go on," Yukinoshita murmured.

So I kept playing.

As I hesitantly plinked away at the melody line with doubtful fingers, Yukinoshita walked a simple bass line with a steady left hand, adding chords and small fills with her right. As expected of the omnipotent Yukinoshita, she's actually good at playing the piano. I wryly twisted the side of my mouth as I hit a wrong note and started to give up. I bet she could play the melody line too, she's probably just that good, and so I backed off, prepared to let her take over. But she just looked at me, confused.

"Don't stop yet, Hikigaya-kun…" she urged.

"Well, I can't actually play this. 'S not like I know how to play the piano anyways, and I don't even know how this song goes. It doesn't really matter anyway…"

"Well, that's no reason to give up just yet. Or are you just too cowardly to try? Afraid you'll fail miserably?"

"Oi, oi, you expect me to rise to that level of taunts. What do you take me for, yourself? Pretty sure that kind of insult was how Hiratsuka-sensei got you to let me into the club…"

"Hikcowardly-kun."

"Enough."

"Do it."

"No."

"Just dooo iiit."

"Nyet."

"Where did you even learn that? That's… That's Russian, for crying out loud."

"That's why I get good scores in language class."

"Because you know one word in Russian?"

"All this and more."

"Still not good enough to take the top, though. Heh heh heh."

"Gloat on your own time," I sulked. As Yukinoshita tried to rebut me, I ignored her and started playing the piano again. Ha! You may have gotten what you wanted, but I got the last word! Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose. To my left on the piano bench, Yukinoshita turned back to filling out the harmonies for the tune. As I reached for a higher note, I scooted slightly to the right to readjust my position on the piano bench. Not that I was being conscious of-of nothing, nothing at all, focus on playing the song, that's right. Ignore that vaguely sweet fragrance that isn't tea brewing, ignore that slightly radiant warmth that isn't a heating teapot, just play the piano, Hachiman.

What was this song called anyway? I forget, but it sounded pretty nice. A little melancholy, but pretty easygoing and pleasant for a swing tune. I added in a little double stop chord just to try it out and found that it sounded nice. I nodded, pleased, and Yukinoshita did the same. But not one to be outdone, she added in a little jazzy lilt to her harmonizing part with a slight smile. I could feel the corners of my mouth tugging upwards too, so I started tapping my foot to the beat to distract me. As we neared the end of the tune, I strangely felt that I wanted to keep going. I don't know why. But I added in a bluesy scale that turned the song back around to the beginning again, smirking slightly when it sounded okay. Wasn't expecting that to happen.

But what I _really_ didn't expect to happen was the voice that suddenly sang out from behind us. I nearly jumped off the piano bench in surprise. But as Yuigahama's unexpectedly sweet voice kept on singing, I again felt the urge to keep going.

" _Missed the Saturday dance..._

 _Heard they crowded the floor..._

 _Couldn't bear it without you..._

 _Don't get around much anymore._

 _Thought I'd visit the club…_

 _Got as far as the door._

 _They'd have asked me about you…_

 _Don't get around much anymore._

 _Darling, I guess_

 _My mind's more at ease…_

 _But, nevertheless,_

 _Why stir up memories…?_

 _Been invited on dates._

 _Might have gone, but what for?_

 _Mighty different without you…_

 _Don't get around much anymore."_

As I popped the last chord once more, Yukinoshita added three ascending notes at the end, and we finished together with a final "plunk."

I sat back on the piano bench, strangely satisfied, as I put my hands on my knees and let out a small breath. I swiveled to look at Yukinoshita, who was leaning on her elbow with a pleased smile on her face as she looked at Yuigahama. I spun in my seat to look over at the new arrival as well, wondering how long she'd even been in here...

"Well, that just happened," she said with a slightly nervous grin as she interrupted my thoughts.

"Yes, I suppose it did," replied Yukinoshita hesitantly.

"But I didn't know you could play the piano, Yukion!" Yuigahama exclaimed. Well, she is the omnipotent Ice queen, were you expecting anything less?

"Not that well…" Yukinoshita protested humbly. Well, if you don't play that well, where does that put me, huh? Is this an indirect insult? Even when she doesn't try, she still manages to slight me.

"Or you, either, Hikki, I didn't know you could play the piano."

"Well, I can't really. I just kinda blundered around until I got it right."

"Oh, so you started this whole piano thing then." Well, I suppose that I was the first person to sit down and start playing. But wait, wasn't the real culprit here the person who left the piano in here? It was probably Sensei being irresponsible again, now that I think about it.

"Well, I didn't know you could sing either, Yuigahama," I countered.

"Well, I don't know about that, I can't really sing that well."

"Actually, Yuigahama-san, in my opinion, your singing was rather in tune and on pitch, and could be said to be of good quality, as well as vocal tone and timbre were of relatively satisfactory measures, which could be said to be pretty good, and furthermore…"

"Hehe, it's okay Yukinon, I don't get what you're saying anyway. But it's okay, I mean…"

"Well, basically, she's saying your singing was more or less not bad at all, so…" Yuigahama tilted her head.

"Was that a compliment? I think it was. Right? Probably? Neh, Yukinon?"

"Er, your singing was nice, Yuigahama-san," Yukinoshita quietly murmured.

"Ehehe, thanks Yukinon!" said Yuigahama as she proceeded to hug Yukinoshita from behind. Okay, there is now officially too much Yurigahama on this piano bench. I took the opportunity to retreat back to my regular seat.

"So Yuigahama, how did you even know that song? It's, like, American jazz."

"I think the real question is how you knew that song, Hikigaya-kun," Yukinoshita countered as she stood to prepare tea, still dragging a clingy Yuigahama behind her. I laughed internally at the sight.

"Well, I just had it on my playlist of background tunes to drown out the socials this morning."

"You have a playlist for that, Hikki…?" Yuigahama questioned incredulously. "Or rather, why does being called a 'social' by you feel like an insult?

"Guilt by association, Yuigahama. You are technically a social, so…"

"But being social is a good thing! Why do you keep saying it like it's a bad thing?"

"Possibly because Hikigaya-kun is diametrically opposed to those with superior social interaction skills than him on principle of his hated-loner status."

"Hey, I'm not hated per se. People just are too small-minded to notice my good points."

"Ara, Hikigaya-kun seems to have the mistaken impression that he has good points. How amusing."

"So you admit that you're small-minded."

"Your logic is almost as twisted as your personality. Or at least, that's what I would say, if you actually demonstrated any kind of logic there, which you clearly didn't."

"So you admit that I have personality."

"Unfortunately for the world, your personality is difficult to dismiss as nonexistent."

"Au contraire, mon amie. I bet if you took a survey of students at Sobu, most people would have no idea of my existence. The loner power is strong with this one."

"Mon amie? I believe I've told you before, Hikigaya-kun. We will never be friends."

"It was a figure of speech…"

"Then use it properly."

"Besides, what use have I for friends? For most people, the title of "friends" is just a label of status, a position in their "social hierarchy" that they all care so much about. Or...it's a euphemistic way to shut someone down…" I winced at the traumatic flashback. It may not be a diagnosable case of PTSD, but it sure feels like it!

"Spare us the gross memories of your gross past, Hikigrossa-kun."

"Hey, it's just that-all in the past. And now, I guess my mind's more at ease. But nevertheless, why stir up old memories?"

"Unlike you, reasonable people appreciate their memories for the learning value. For example, if you learned from your memories, you'd recognize that it's unwise to attempt to win an argument with me."

"But I do learn from my mistakes. That's why I don't bother with the lies of youth. You'll never see me fruitlessly trying to attempt to socialize with normalfags for no particular reason. In fact, keeping to myself is advantageous to all parties involved. They should really show more appreciation for a loner's generosity."

"Twisted logic from a twisted person, Hikkimori-kun."

"I'm not a hikkimori. Really…I just don't get around much anymore."

Yes, being a loner can be something forced onto you. Ostracized by a certain social group, a fight or an argument with a peer...these things are all too common. But that doesn't mean being a loner is necessarily a bad thing.

Loners have the advantage of less worries. Without social pressures to constantly have to be considerate of, loners enjoy peace and security. They never have to navigate unnecessarily complicated relationships, never have to worry about fronts or facades, never have to deal with ulterior motives or the cruel judgements of peers.

Once one sees through the lies that form the world of most high school students, their so-called "youth," there's no need to try to play their little games anymore.

I don't care about things that've already happened.

I refuse to deign any importance to people from my past.

I can, in fact, bear it without them.

But I did learn. And that's why…

I don't get around much anymore.

...

 **It's terrible.**

 **It's horrible.**

 **It's diabolical.**

 **It's… a songfic.**

 **Hey guys, ImaNuke here. I guess calling this a songfic might be a bit exaggerated, but at the very least I hope your eyes didn't bleed from the cringiness.**

 **If you didn't already figure out what the song's actually called, I'll give you a hint: it's the title. It's a pretty nice jazz standard actually and I'd recommend giving it a listen. Try the Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington versions.**

 **As for those of you who are familiar with music, yes, I understand your complaints. It's rather unrealistic to expect 8man to be able to play the piano with basically no recent musical training. BUT I CAN DREAM, HAROLD! Plus, that stuff about perfect pitch and whatnot was all true. Look it up if you don't believe me.**

 **I do have a certain amount of familiarity with musical instruments…cuz I play one ;) …and so I kinda felt like trying it out with 8man. Even if it was terrible, at least it's unique! Seriously though, they don't mention music in Oregairu much besides the girls' performance onstage at the culture festival. And I can't remember reading any Oregairu fan fictions about music either. So I get points for creativity yaaaay meeeee…. *cries alone in a hole* what am I doing guys…**

 **Anyway! Hope you enjoyed it, feel free to leave a review (in fact, please do… *yuigahama puppy dog eyes*) and as always, thanks for reading!**


	9. Ersatz

Ersatz

" _Youth is a lie. It is evil."_

" _Fake people have an image to maintain. Real people don't care."_

" _She's every man's ideal woman. But ideal are ideals...so it feels totally fake."_

" _We all have our own personal image that's dictated by others, one that's always off the mark. We wish to remain true to ourselves, but who gets to decide who we are as people? When our image never goes hand-in-hand with reality, where can we find our true selves?"_

There was a new kid at Wayside School. His name was Sammy.

 _Let's begin with a story._

Although Sammy seemed pretty normal, there were a few odd things about him.

 _A perfectly normal story._

Firstly, he smelled terrible. Although the children tried to ignore it for courtesy's sake, his stench permeated the 30th story of Wayside School, making it hard to focus or do anything resembling learning.

 _A rather amusing story._

Secondly, he wore raincoats. Of course, wearing a raincoat wasn't all that odd, but Sammy wore multiple. In fact, he wore so many that you couldn't even see his face beneath all the layers.

 _You may know this story._

Mrs. Jewls, the teacher, decided enough was enough, and kindly asked Sammy if he would take off his raincoats. After all, he was inside, and it wasn't raining either, so it shouldn't be a problem.

 _After all, I didn't make it up myself._

But Sammy didn't. Instead, he called Mrs. Jewls an old hag. So she wrote his name on the board under "Discipline." Then she asked him again: would he please the off the raincoat? Instead, he called her a pig. So she circled his name on the blackboard.

 _In fact, the credit should go to Louis Sachar, as he's the real author._

Twice more, Mrs. Jewls asked if Sammy would take off the raincoat. Twice more, Sammy called Mrs. Jewls insulting names. Mrs Jewls checked his name on the blackboard, and then put a triangle around it-Sammy was going to go home on the kindergarten bus, whether he liked it or not.

 _If you've read Mr. Sachar's books, then you know how this ends._

And yet, Sammy still refused to take off the raincoats. So Mrs Jewls did it herself. But after she peeled the first one off, there was another underneath. And another underneath that one.

And another.

And another.

 _And another._

And another.

And another.

Progressively getting dirtier, and dingier, and more disgusting.

 _Yes, in the end…_

Finally, they reached just one last raincoat.

 _...Sammy turned out to be…_

Mrs Jewls unwrapped it, and found inside…

... _a dead rat._

Mrs. Jewls hated dead rats. So she threw him in the trash.

* * *

Not many people are observant.

Of course, there do exist the select few whose experiences, attitude, and mentality allow them to notice the tiniest things, see through the thickest acts.

But by and large, the world is content to accept what they see. Image is everything in today's society, and first impressions are only important because humans, as a species, possess the collective weakness of "initial judgement." If people are abruptly deemed unpopular because that's what the world sees, nobody attempts to look deeper. However, that means the opposite is also true-with a convincing facade, one can easily fool most people.

Most people.

As one mischievous kid once put it, there's no such thing as a convenient woman. Identifying my personality as an elaborate act, therefore, must have been done by process of elimination. But for those who don't know that it's not the answer, that it's not the whole truth, they believe it. They're unable to see through the thick layers to what's underneath. This front, this act, this masquerade-it's me. It's who I am to strangers. It's who I am to family. It's who I am to friends. It's who I am...to…

But the question I find myself asking is, where does it stop? Drawing lines is never as simple as that, and differentiating between truth and pyrite isn't as simple as finding its density.

 _How deep do the lies go?_

It wasn't trust. No, it was something far more sinister.

 _How much is artificial?_

When you think you've found the right answer, and you settle for an imitation.

 _How many raincoats...am I wearing?_

 _._

"If truth is a cruel mistress, then lies must be a nice girl." That cheeky little pessimist said something like this once. But then, why are lies something to be ashamed of? Society discourages the concept of lying as "morally incorrect." But society is built upon a mountain of lies, of little acts, people happily playing their part in a meaningless charade of falsehood. If all the world is the lie, then what else can it be but the truth?

That cute little cynic. He tries, he really does. Even though he always says it's just for some self-justification. His pride is his humility. But perhaps he's never realized that for someone who hates artificiality, he's awfully fabricated himself.

Can one ever truly be their own person, individually, separated from any kind of influence from society or the world? Isn't the very attitude of a proudly pessimistic loner a mask, an attitude that he forced upon himself in order to see through the lies and misunderstandings of the world? Is Hikigaya Hachiman a genuine loner, or just a case of a coping mechanism gone overboard?

 _How deep do the lies go?_

That Fortified Armored Shell-like mask of pessimism that he wears is rather impressive.

 _How much is artificial?_

Even I haven't really managed to penetrate it, with all my teasing and poking of fun.

 _How many raincoats...is he wearing?_

.

My adorable little sister. A flawless beauty, intelligent far above the masses. She sports a sharp wit, an even sharper tongue, and a naive sense of noblesse oblige. One could say that her level of natural talent is pretty unnatural. She holds the truth in highest regard, and arbitrarily decided that she neither tells lies nor can she approve of anyone who does.

And yet, she continues to foolishly chase my back. She continues to blunder about, never knowing just what it is she wants to obtain. She continues to hate us, but never wanting us to hate her. Really, rather than striving after me…isn't she just copying? Plagiarism? That feeling when an author has no ideas of their own, so they resort to taking others', remaking it for themselves.

We go through life, our blank slate of personality colored in-completely and only-by the smudges of the influence of others. Can we really say that a single aspect of our personality is original? We imitate those that we idealize. We emulate those that we respect. But if imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then none of our personality traits can be said to be really ours.

 _How deep do the lies go?_

She claimed that she'd stopped chasing my back.

 _How much is artificial?_

But then, whose back is she chasing now?

 _How many raincoats...is she wearing?_

 _._

It's who I am… to myself.

If their entire personalities are really just manufactured…

Do the raincoats ever end?

.

Mrs. Jewls hated dead rats.

" _Is this what that genuine thing looks like?"_

So she threw him in the trash.

" _Is anything...really genuine?"_

 _._

Ersatz  
/ˈerˌzäts,ˈerˌsäts/  
 _adjective_  
1) Made or used as a substitute, typically an inferior one, for something else.  
Synonyms: artificial, substitute, imitation, synthetic, fake, false, faux, mock, simulated

2) Not real or genuine.

.

 **Heya guys, ImaNuke here with a double upload! Le gasp!**

 **At first you might be saying, hang on, you wannabe tryhard scrublord, you only put up one chapter. But wait! There's more! I've actually uploaded another chapter...but it's the new chapter 1. Why did I do that? Well, just go read it, it should make sense.**

 **I hope you all appreciated what I'm calling a more "literary chapter" (mostly because I don't wanna call it a "boring chapter.") Incidentally, the new chapter 1 is also a "literary chapter," so if you hated this one...you should go read it anyway! While I cri in the background. Just kidding. I'll roll around on the floor like the chuuni I am.**

 **I'm a bit curious if any of you have actually read** **Sideways Stories from Wayside School** **by Louis Sachar, which is where I drew the "Sammy" story from. If you didn't, well, you had no childhood. Either that or your childhood occurred prior to the book's publishing. In any case, I'd still recommend it because it's absurd and funny. Unlike this chapter, which I hope was kind of serious and which I also hope had arguments which made logical sense to you readers.**

 **I drew a lot of inspiration for this introspection from season 2, episode 12 of the oregairu anime, so if you didn't get it you should rewatch that episode. Be prepared for a couple of feels.**

 **Anyway, I do have another chapter in the works, and I'll give you a hint.**

 **Just kidding, I won't.**

 **Except to tell you that the author of the fic "Even so, the service club continues to interact in peace" will be excited. Or possibly horrified.**

 **Reviews, faves, follows are always appreciated.**

 **As always, thanks for reading.**


	10. Windows

Windows

The word "window" has many meanings.

One could be talking about a window of time, or a window of opportunity.

It might be a computer window, like a browser tab, or possibly the software program Windows.

Windowed envelopes are often used for business mail, and "Window" was the WW2 British codename for the military countermeasure called chaff, which refers to strips of foil dropped from an aircraft to fool enemy radar.

A window can be used as a metaphor for anything that provides a new insight into something else; for example, one might say that television is a window to the world, or that eyes are the window to the soul. (An epigram that I disagree with, on account of the fact that I believe my soul has slightly less DHA than my eyes would lead you to believe.)

But perhaps the most common usage of the word "window" is simply to refer to the object of a window: a transparent pane of glass or plastic, fitted into a hole in a wall or roof, that admits light or air and allows people to see through it. Windows occur everywhere: cars, houses, airplanes, office buildings, trains.

Or, perhaps, a bus.

Watching out the window may seem like a dull activity to most. After all, everyone is anxious to go out in the world and live the lie called youth, or perhaps inspired by some sort of foolish competitive urge to "win at life."

But in my opinion, watching out the window is a far better option. Protected behind a secure layer of glass or polyurethane, safe from the elements or the dangers of life, one can simply observe, relaxed, the trivial goings-on of the world outside. Whether sitting comfortably inside of one's own home, or riding in a vehicle, watching the scenery go by, windows provide a 3rd person's perspective on whatever's out there. Uninvolved.

Detached.

Separate.

That's the way I prefer to live my life.

.

Sometimes, the things out the window seem straight out of a painting. The image of a little old town, short and quaint buildings along the main street, all resting still as if devoid of life. The fathomless blue sky overhead, time-worn stores and homes slumping into the cracked asphalt, almost as if they were abandoned long ago-a fact refuted by the presence of cars in their small parking lots. Nevertheless, not a solitary person traverses the pastorally abandoned landscape.

A single mountain rising in the distance, white peak topped with matching clouds. A lonely sentinel of the ages, gazing out across the same land as for hundreds of thousands of years past. The ancient carpet of green down its slopes sharply contrasting the jarringly new concrete and steel of the city at its base, just visible over the treetops at the side of the highway.

The glimmering lights of cars, of buildings, of glowing signs, creating a reflection in the darkened windows from across the vehicle. Gazing out the window not at a true image, but at a refraction of the beams cast by headlights going the opposite direction along the highway. The bustle of civilization, reduced to the simple journey of endless pairs of white orbs traversing across the window accompanied by the quiet rumble of the bus engine and the growl of the road in the darkness.

Leaning against the window, head back on the seat, earphones tucked into my ears. Gazing into infinity through the square vortex of plexiglass next to me. Nodding vaguely to the silent beat of some melancholy jazz.

.

"Looking out the window"-it's one of my very useful and infinitely flexible 108 special loner skills. Whenever I'm unnecessarily forced on any kind of long road trip away from my lovely home of Chiba, I consequently become slightly more irritable than usual. Therefore, desiring even more than usual to avoid human interaction, I have devised this strategy to seem acceptably occupied and therefore have an excuse for not participating in conversations.

All I have to do is plug in my earbuds, turn on some music, and just watch the landscape go by. Not only is it engaging and helps me avoid boredom on long rides, but I never need to participate in the terrifying social conventions that naturally follow along with long car trips, such as "road trip games," "road trip karaoke," or - the best one - "road trip gossip." I can instead ignore those damn riajuus and instead, I peacefully enjoy the passing landscape to the sound of some music through my headphones.

As I thought.

Loners really are quite self-sufficient.

.

 _"...neh, Hikki, what do you think?"_

 _"Oh look, Hikitani-kun's got his earbuds in. Guess he totally can't, like, hear us..."_

 _"Rather, I think perhaps he is just mentally incapable of understanding the concepts we were discussing. So he doesn't recognize the need to respond."_

 _"..."_

 _"...I'll have you know that if Yuigahama is capable of discussing a concept, by definition I can easily comprehend it. Also, insulting people behind their back is considered rude in certain countries."_

 _"Hey! I can understand whatever conseft thing you're talking about just fine, you know!"_

 _"Says the person who doesn't even know the word 'concept.'"_

 _"So mean! Yukinon, Hikki's so mean!"_

 _"...Is that how you usually, like, talk to each other? Like, you shouldn't be so mean to Yui. Like, REALLY."_

 _"...Yes, ma'am, Miura-san. Say, what did you even want to talk to me about anyway?"_

 _"Well, you see, Hikki, we were just talkin about..._

 **Hiya folks, ImaNuke here! And yes, I'm a liar.**

 **If it wasn't obvious, this is not, in fact, the chapter that I promised last time. This was written spur-of-the-moment, because I had a couple pretty cool ideas in my head and I wanted to put them to paper. Don't worry, the chapter I promised you guys last time is still coming along, and it should be the next one out…**

 ** _Should_** **…**

 **If anybody was confused by the setup, then, well, you're right to be confused. Basically, this was based on a mental image of 8man on a bus trip with his classmates. Although the class trip that students take in 2nd year, in which they ride on a bus, already happened at the beginning of season 2, this was sort of a spin-off of that. More or less. And the lack of an endquote mark on the last line was intentional.**

 **Well, anyway. Faves, follows, reviews, all of these things boost my ego and give me some affirmation of my pitiful significance! :D So don't be shy ;)**

 **And as always, thanks for reading.**


	11. Endless 8man

"Without bad things, we couldn't have good things," as the old expression goes. And for an old expression, it's surprisingly accurate, even in these modern times. For example, Fridays are special and something to look forward to simply because they're the end of the week-or, in other words, because they're not Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. Without the terrible monotony and abject boredom of the rest of the week, the relief of a Friday wouldn't even exist. So as reluctant as I am to agree with old-fashioned aphorisms, this one strikes me as undeniably accurate.

Relating to this sentiment would be another maxim: "All good things must come to an end." Weekends always have to end with a Monday, after all. No good thing can last forever, because there must always be space for the bad things: without them, there could be no good things either. Without the rest of the week, the weekend wouldn't feel like a relief at all.

So therefore, could you say that anything that's permanent can never be a good thing?

.

Something was wrong.

That's what my gut was telling me.

Although dull, it was a perfectly normal summer day, at the height of summer after the Obon festival.

" _And the second batter steps up to the plate for the…"_

The baseball game on TV, between two schools from the same prefecture, had nothing to do with me. But perhaps some misguided sense of pity made me want to root for the losing team...

" _The first pitch is a strike…"_

...Which was when I had a strange feeling that somebody was about to make trouble.

 _Brrr! Brrr!_

Somehow, I knew that it was my phone buzzing, even though I rarely hear the ringtone (for obvious reasons.) Sighing reluctantly, I picked it up off of the table in front of me and gazed at it. The caller ID read: _Yuigahama Y._ I grimaced-she wasn't as bad as Hiratsuka-sensei, but I felt like ignoring her would be a decision that I might regret. What could she want, anyway?

"Onii-chan, your phone," Komachi called from the couch next to me. **[1]**

"Don't need you to tell me that," I sighed, flipping the phone open and putting it up to my ear.

"Hello, Hikigaya-kun." It was the ice queen, Yukinoshita, as I expected. "You're free today, right? I have been instructed to tell you that we're all meeting in front of the station at two. And that you'd better come." _Beep!_

I didn't say a word…

 _Brrr!_

"What now?"

"Yuigahama forgot to mention what you need to bring. Wear your swimsuit, and bring plenty of money. And apparently, you should come on your bicycle. With Komachi." _Beep!_

...I'd rather not, please.

Don't disturb my glorious afternoon peace.

But somehow… Somehow, I had a feeling that I knew exactly what Yukinoshita was going to say. No, that's not entirely right. I should say that, for some reason, I had a feeling that this had all happened before.

Perhaps, this is what they call déjà vu?

 _*Clank!* "And it's going...going…it's outta here! A solo home run!"_

…Summer's almost over, huh?

.

" _...Day by day, I'm getting more fed up with life…"_ _ **[2]**_

 _._

I pedaled into town with Komachi, wheels clicking and whirring in the afternoon heat in accompaniment with the cicadas. Pulling up to the station, I immediately spotted the three culprits that evicted me from my home on this perfectly good lazy day.

"Yahallo, Hikki! Yahallo, Komachi!"

"You're late, Hikigaya-kun."

And Sensei just punched my arm.

Komachi, of course, yahalloed (is that a word? It sounds wrong…) back in response to Yuigahama, as well as Yukinoshita, before respectfully bowing and introducing herself to sensei.

"Hello! I'm Hikigaya Komachi, this oaf's little sister! It's nice to meet you, and thanks for always putting up with my Gomii-chan!" Hey, Komachi, don't sell me out here! I need some emotional support against the tyranny of this teacher, and calling me an oaf gomii-chan isn't helping…

"Ooh, Hikigaya, your little sister's so nice! And what an accurate evaluation of his personality… Mind if I call you Komachi?"

"Not at all, sensei!"

It appears that they've sensed a kindred spirit...if you can call a desire to interfere needlessly in my life a character trait. Actually...

"Why am I here anyway…?" I asked more to myself than anyone else.

"You're here because I told you to be here."

"Actually, Yukinoshita told me that, Sensei. Not you."

"Yes, but I requested that she tell you. Now let's go!"

"Go where? Home? I approv-owwwww…."

"No, the public pool, obviously."

"I suppose I should've guessed from the preparations…" I muttered.

"You need to show some more effort, Hikigaya! You have to do summer-like activities in the summer! Time never comes back once it's gone!...a fact I know all too well…" Hiratsuka-sensei suddenly slumped down with a depressed look on her face as she added that. "But that doesn't mean I can't have some fun here and now! Let's goooo!"

"How are we gonna get there, anyway? Did you all bring bikes or something?"

"I brought one!" Sensei exclaimed, pointing. I raised an eyebrow. Did she seriously intend to take both Yukinoshita and Yuigahama with her? Her bicycle looks kind of old...and small...

"Hiratsuka-sensei…" an icy voice interjected. "You neglected to inform us that we would need to bring a mode of transportation."

"Um… Teehee!" No, sensei, that's a Hikigaya family-only trademark gesture, you're not allowed to use it. "Well, it's not like we can't fit a couple people on a bike." Um, again, how do you all intend to fit on that little thing?

"Komachi will ride with sensei! After all, Komachi can fit on sensei's bike. Probably. It does look kind of small."

"Oh, yeah, this old thing? You might be right, I dunno how we could get more than 2 people on it." Uh oh, I don't like where this is going, don't do this to me sensei… After all, it's already way too much work to bicycle on a weekend, much less hauling another person, much less hauling another two people! This is a violation of my codes of "avoid extra work at all costs," and I won't stand for it!

…

 _Hah… Hah… Hah…_

"Oi, onii-chan! Put your bike away already! Why're you so worn out before you've even started having fun?"Whose fault do you think that is, huh? Making me try to bike here with both Yukinoshita and Yuigahama on the back… I refuse to think about it. Put it out of your mind, Hachiman! You've trained for this! Don't even look at those two, control your facial complexion, and don't even try to remember the vague softness on your back! ...Let's go inside, shall we?

The public pool we had arrived at was obviously a popular destination this late in the season. With the cicadas humming, the sun glaring, and the trees standing still in the windless afternoon, one could omnipresently feel the late summer heat baking into the back of Chiba. It's no wonder the fair citizens of the prefecture had decided to flock to the pool in hopes of some summer-themed cooling off. But really...this crowd was pretty large… Instead of a public pool, they should call it a communal pool…

Apparently, Komachi had no such qualms, as she hurtled down the walkway towards the pool, Yuigahama right behind her, with Yukinoshita in tow. Not even pausing at the edge, Komachi and Yuigahama jumped straight in, pulling the hapless Yukinoshita in behind them. Jeez...can't they read the "No Diving" signs everywhere?

"The smell of chlorine really brings out the atmosphere!"

"Yuigahama-san, I don't recall asking you to forcibly drag me into the pool…"

"Ehehe, sorry…Now take this!" _Splash!_

"Come on in, Onii-chan! The water's all warm and comfortable!" Indeed, something like pool water temperature is frequently a concern when one visits such an establishment. If it's too early in the season, or if it rained recently, the water is liable to be too cold for extended swimming. As a solitary loner and future house-husband, I am therefore also an energy conservationist. And swimming in pool water that's too cold would sap my body heat! I refuse to use a single calorie more than is necessary to maintain my body temperature! But wait, wasn't I just forced to waste a great deal of energy on that pleasa-err, hopelessly tiring bike ride a minute ago? Curse those who force me to abandon my ideals! May the gods of RomCom condemn you to eternal bad luck! Well, if it's sensei we're talking about, I guess they already have…

"They look to be enjoying themselves." Oh, speak of the devil. And I do mean that literally, this one likes to dole out the punishment like we're in the 9th circle of hell. "Quite a pleasant sight. And it feels peaceful as well."

"...mm."

"Think you guys are learning to have fun in a normal fashion?"

"I wouldn't consider calling me with no warning and hanging up the second instructions were given to be a normal way to invite someone."

"Ha. Like you could do any better."

"Fair enough. Although rather than issuing orders like some kind of deity, I probably just wouldn't say anything."

"Well, if you ask me, that isn't really a big deal at all. And there probably won't be any earth-shaking events when those two have such cheerful smiles on their faces."

"Sigh...sure hope you're right."

Sensei paused for a moment, contemplative, but then her expression darkened.

"What's wrong?"

"...Nothing. Probably just my imagination. I must have become a little oversensitive to people after all that cynical prattle about society you've given me since spring."

"Hmph."

.

Later that afternoon, I had left the water and was relaxing in the shade with my hands behind my head. But as I was watching the other four play in the pool with a big inflatable beach ball, I felt a strange sensation. Like I'd seen this scene somewhere before. With me feeling somewhat bored, and…

"Hikigaya-kun."

Yeah. And then Yukinoshita says the following to those two little kids:

 _This decomposing mass-_

"-is one of my club 'll do whatever I say, as I am in charge of him-"

 _-so feel free to ask him for anything._

"Let's go play, Yukinon! We're gonna do underwater soccer! You too, Hikki!"

"Yeah, yeah. Coming."

Well, déjà vu is a fairly common phenomena. And seriously, Yukinoshita? Indoctrinating the next generation with more Hachi-hate? I'm at the point where you could just call me Hateman. Well, as I've said before: being noticed is a wonderful feeling.

.

"It seems Hiratsuka-sensei came up with a list of activities for us to do." After our trip to the pool, Sensei had bid us farewell and we had walked to a nearby cafe. "She said it was a request of some kind. I believe her words were 'enjoy the youth I never got to have,' or something. What do you think?" Oh, sensei, I'm not sure whether to pity you or be irritated that you had the nerve to force me to do something this summer. No, but really, be careful. They call it summer vacation after all, if you don't rest at home, you might be treading a dangerous line of legality. **[3]** But a sheet this long… And we're supposed to clear this in less than two weeks?

"Incidentally, is there anything that anyone else wants to do?" Um, can I put "Do nothing" on that list, Yukinoshita-sama?

"Well...I'd like to scoop goldfish." No, Yuigahama! Don't make more work for us!

"Okay, goldfish scooping it is." How could you, Yukinoshita? Whyyyyy….. "For maximum efficiency, we start tomorrow. Is there a Bon Dance going on anywhere nearby?"

"Fireworks could also work."

...say, wait a second. Why are you still here, Komachi?

"Onii-chan, I see that question in your eyes. But Komachi wants to have fun, too!" Then she lowered her voice and cupped her hand as she spoke in a low voice into my ear. "And besides, can you handle 2 weeks of events with both of these two? As much as Komachi wants onii-chan to succeed, Komachi can't help but feel that if I leave you alone, you'll totally screw this up…" Urgh. While I completely condemn any interfering that Komachi does trying to put me in useless romcom situations, it's true that it'd be handy to have another person around to relieve social tensions. Which Komachi is incomprehensibly good at. How does she do it even though she's related to me…?

"We wouldn't mind taking Komachi-chan along! Right, Hikki?"

"Yeah, I guess it's fine."

"...anything for your little sister, eh, Hikigaya-kun?"

"Hey, Yuigahama was okay with it. Hence, inviting her along should be totally normal and not at all to do with if I'm a siscon or not. Which I am not."

"Sure, sure. Anyway, I'll look into the Bon Festival. Dismissed until tomorrow."

...looks like I'm paying, huh? Even though Yukinoshita could've totally footed the bill.

.

The next morning, I was woken from my idle slumber by another call from Yukinoshita. She'd found a place holding a Bon Dance. It'd be this evening at the public grounds, apparently. Or at least, that's what I tried to tell Komachi…

"Let's all go buy yukatas!"

And so, she arbitrarily decided to go and shop for a yukata with Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. Of course, bring a suspicious-looking lone male, I was forced to wait on a bench outside the store for over an hour. At least I had my Vita-chan to keep me company!

I was interrupted in the middle of my game-playing by a buzz from the phone in my pocket. I fruitlessly attempted to argue with Konachi over email that I did not, in fact, need to come into the store and see their yukatas, as I would get to see them tonight anyway. But she got fed up with my antics and walked out of the store, yukata and all, and dragged me inside by the collar. Leaving the store with merchandise-I'm pretty sure that's illegal, you knooow?

"...if I had any respect at all for social norms, I'd probably say something along the lines of 'you all look marvelous.' But I'm not Hayama. And thank goodness for that, too…" I muttered.

"Onii-chan, you hinedere." Komachi complained.

.

Later that evening, we all went to the first event on our schedule, as we had planned. But a Bon Dance, huh? I'm surprised by all the people here. And really, I can't say that I have good memories of these things… Huh? I don't think I've been to one in years, but for some reason, it feels like I've been to one recently. That stage… That stand…

"Look, Yui-senpai! There's the goldfish scooping you wanted to do! Scoop all you want!"

"Yeah! Let's go!" Right… You two just run off like that, sure, leave me here with the ice queen...

"Er, anyway. Wanna grab something to eat?" I attempted lamely to Yukinoshita. But she was already staring at something, and simply shook her head as she brushed me off and walked over to a brightly lit booth.

...of course, it was a Pan-san mask. I pulled out my wallet, but she stopped me, saying, "No need." Well, I guess she's plenty rich, so it's not like she can't pay it. But it was only 800 yen; I wouldn't have minded buying that for her.

.

"Let's do fireworks next! Fireworks! Get it out of the way today!" Yuigahama, have you ever heard of the phrase, "everything in moderation?"

It was summer. Summer vacation. So I wanted to let loose and forget it all… But something was bothering me.

"We can do insect collecting tomorrow, then."

"Yukinoshita. There's nothing wrong with fulfilling this request, but what about summer homework?"

"What's wrong with you, Hikigaya-kun? That little bit only takes three days to finish." What!? Three days!? Who's the demon that assigned this!? "Get the painful stuff over with early, so you're free to do as you like. That's the correct way to enjoy summer vacation." Yeah, yeah. I bet she rewards herself with cat videos when she's done. As for me...well… I can probably churn it all out in one day! Don't underestimate the power of procrastination!

"So, as I said previously, we're collecting insects tomorrow. Hmm, to motivate this decomposing lump, whoever wins gets to be club president for the day." Um, no thanks, actually. That just served to demotivate me more.

"Yaay! Komachi loves bug-catching!"

"Will any insect be okay, Yukinon?"

"Well, Hikigaeru-kun **[4]** might have an unfair advantage if we include little flies… So it'll have to be big insects only. How about cicadas?" Wow, way to insult me while defining the rules. Also, how did she know my fourth-grade nickname…?

.

The following day was unbelievably sunny.

The competition was stiff (from what I could tell), with Yukinoshita's lack of stamina hindering her precision bug-nabbing skills, and Yuigahama and Komachi's sheer energy made me feel even more tired than the sun beating down on me did. Meanwhile, I just tried to stay in the shade and used stealth tactics to grab any cicadas that passed me. My advantage came in the form of my catching style. Who needs bug nets when you're basically an insect? Opposable thumbs are handy, ladies and gentlemen.

But in the end, as expected I suppose, Yukinoshita was the winner. I guess her pride wouldn't allow anything else.

"We must follow the spirit of catch and release," Yukinoshita declared. Yeah I bet that made you feel really noble and enigmatic, didn't it.

"Yeah! Cuz in the future, they might return the favor!" Er, Yuigahama, what could a cicada possibly do for you? I think there's a bigger problem if cicadas are catching and releasing humans…

.

The next day…

We were assembled for some unknown reason…

Stuffed into frog costumes for that same unknown reason…

And forced into a job handing out balloons at a supermarket.

What is this gross humiliation? At least there's a mask over my face, and I don't have to talk to people. But it's unbearably hot in this thing! Will it ever end…?

"Good work, everyone." Yukinoshita drifted into the worker's costume room, Popsicle in her mouth. Oi, oi, what's with this slave-like treatment? "The manager really appreciated it."

"I don't need any appreciation from the manager. What about our pay?"

"Sigh… Of course that's the first thing you think of."

"Well yeah, I just spend God knows how long sweating my face off in that awful frog costume, I'd like to know what I get for it."

"Hmm, I suppose I see your point. Incidentally, have you taken that frog costume off yet? Hikigaeru-kun?"

"...That is seriously the second time in three days. It's getting old."

"Well, suffice it to say that your payment went towards the club budget. After all, this request was undertaken as a club, so it's only fair."

"What? The club budget? What does that even pay for? Actually...I didn't even know we had a budget…"

"We do now."

Seriously!?

.

 _That night, my quiet slumber was interrupted by yet another phone call._

Is what I'd like to say.

" _Kyon-kun…"_

But really, it was just a dream.

" _...can't go back…"_

I realized after I woke up…

" _...stuck in an infinite…"_

That none of it had actually happened.

" _...something was odd about the recent flow of…"_

But somehow…

" _...experiencing the same period of time…"_

I just had a feeling…

" _...endless summer…"_

That the things I heard…

" _...classified information…"_

Just might be true.

 _A white paper airplane._

"There is a process, at midnight, on August 31st…"

 _Floating through the fluffy white clouds._

"Where everything is reset and returned to the 17th."

 _Against the vaulting blue sky._

"Eighty million, four hundred and ninety-eight thousand, five hundred and thirty two times."

.

For some reason, I woke up the next morning worrying about a certain class of IJN dreadnought battleship. At first, all I could remember was that it had eight 410mm guns **[5]**. And then I recalled the dream I had. Although I wanted to dismiss it as the ramblings of my tired brain, it seemed to inexplicably resonate as somehow being true. Perhaps, the frequent flashes of déjà vu were really remnants of memories that had been erased. Perhaps time really was resetting at the end of each August 31st. But what the hell could have caused it? You'd have to be some sort of god to control time like this. And why would you make a time loop for the last two weeks of summer vacation? It's almost as if this god had regrets or something. And as I've said before, just because something is forever doesn't necessarily mean that it's good.

.

That night, we went stargazing. The location was the roof of Yukinoshita's apartment building. I brought the telescope, a memento from my cringe-worthy chuunibyou-ridden middle school days.

"I wonder if any exist."

"What?"

"Martians."

No, Yuigahama, probably not.

"You can't see any on the surface, so they must be a really reserved race who lives in underground caverns. They're probably a friendly bunch."

Can't be sure about that. If they're anything like humans, that is.

"I bet they'll pop out and greet us when humans set foot on Mars for the first time. They'll be like, 'Welcome to Mars!'"

I have a feeling they'd probably mistake is for invaders.

"Man, just looking at Mars is boring. Let's look for UFOs! UFOs!"

.

The rush of summer events continued, and we were constantly on the move. I'm pretty sure that I went out to more places during the last two weeks of summer than I had been to in the entire preceding year. As busy as I was, I barely had any time to try and puzzle out what could possibly be happening with time looping. Naturally, I couldn't tell anyone else my suspicion, because I couldn't prove it. In fact, a lot of the time I spent just doubting myself. After all, I was basing this off of a vague notion that I got from a dream one night-for a monster of logic like me, I could barely convince myself. And of course, I still didn't have a clue what to do. But time waits for no one, and soon enough, it was August 30th.

We met back up in the same cafe as last time, and as we all sipped our drinks, Yukinoshita methodically checked everything off the list. Sigh...I'm paying again, aren't I?

"We've finished off our list." Well, that's good. I think it'd be a problem if we did all that and didn't even manage to complete the request.

"...was this enough?" Huh? What kind of a question was that? Don't tell me, you actually enjoyed yourself? Well, I suppose any semi-normal person might somehow enjoy the feeling of having "done something" with their summer. Actually, even I wasn't immune to the feeling, strangely enough.

But wait.

" _Was this enough?"_

That sounded strangely…

" _...as if this god had regrets or something…"_

...Familiar.

"But… I guess that's all there is."

 _...have to be some sort of god…_

"Hey, is there anything else anyone wanted to do?"

" _...smart, beautiful, high-stat in every way…"_

"..."

"Oh well."

" _...practically some kind of deity…"_

"We managed to complete a lot of events this summer, so that should be sufficient to fulfill Sensei's request."

" _...Sobu's resident Ice Queen…"_

"That's all for today, then."

" _What could she regret?"_

"I had tomorrow set aside, just in case…"

" _What does she still want to do?"_

"But you can all just rest at home."

" _What is there still to be done?"_

"I'll see you two in the clubroom in two days, then."

 _There it is again! Déjà vu, stronger than anything before! I can't let Yukinoshita leave now. Somehow, I know. If I let her leave, we'll be forced to repeat these two weeks over again that we've already looped over 15 million times!_

a white plane takes flight

 _But what am I supposed to do?_

before a swath of white clouds

 _There must have been some kind of hint in what Yukinoshita said._

in the vaulting sky

 _But what was it?_

 _What has she been saying?_

 _Remember!_

 _Something I've been worrying about_

 _And trying to put off_

 _If I don't do something here, Haruhi will leave._

 _If I don't do something here, Yukinoshita will leave._

 _That won't do it!_

 _Nothing will change!_

 _We'll be trapped in the endless circle of the status quo, forever and eternally "enjoying our youth!"_

 _What did our_

 _What didn't our predecessors do at this moment?_

 _Make a wild guess!_

 _._

Or not.

.

Pause.

Think about this.

With your head.

Logically.

.

What didn't Yukinoshita get to do this summer specifically because she was Yukinoshita?

Or rather, what could she have possibly missed out on?

Why doesn't she want summer to end?

What do I still need to do?

What does she still need to do?

 _(I need to do my homework…)_

What do I need to tell Yukinoshita?

 _(She's already done her homework, right?)_

What does she need to hear?

.

"Er…"

"?"

"I've… I've still got something I need to do."

Yukinoshita's footsteps paused, halfway out the automatic sliding door.

"Yeah. That's right… I've still got my summer homework to do."

Yukinoshita's front foot stepped back and turned around to face me.

"Really, I can't go to school until my summer homework's done. To think what sensei would do to me…" I shuddered.

Yukinoshita began to walk back over to the table.

"And Yuigahama. I bet your summer homework isn't even close to done. Or at the very least, not even close to correct."

"Hey, Hikki, that's mean! It's probably mostly correct…! Partially…! Somewhat…"

"And Komachi, don't you still have a book report to write? We can all give you a hand. Let's do a study session at my place tomorrow."

"Ara, Hikigaya-kun. Do you intend to hold club activities without your president? Since when are you in charge of this club? I don't recall allowing you to dictate where and what this club goes and does."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. You're invited too. After all, where else would we get our answers from?"

"...As expected from quite possibly the second laziest person to ever exist. Well, tomorrow morning it is, at Hikigaya-kun's house?"

"That's fine by me."

"I'll be there!"

"Me too!"

"Of course you'll be there, Komachi...you live there, remember…?"

"Teehee!"

.

And so the crisis was resolved. Not that anyone will ever know. In fact, I can't be too sure myself that whatever I did was even necessary. After all, my natural predisposition is towards inaction, so my actions there felt really out of place. But, every time I convince myself that it was all imaginary, I just remember that feeling of déjà vu.

School started back up the following day, as expected. Fortunately, the study session the day before had allowed me to finish my expertly-procrastinated homework on time with minimal effort. At the risk of sounding like some sort of pop-culture-attuned riajuu, I triumphantly crow: lifehacks! And as per usual, we all met in the clubroom after school, sipping tea, reading, and chatting casually. No sign that we had repeated the last two weeks of vacation over 8 million times. Really, how did I come up with that number? I really don't know, and I definitely can't prove anything. But if I was right, that meant that we had repeated those two weeks for over 300,000 years.

...I'm pretty sure that's longer than the entirety of the human race has been in existence.

Hard to believe it was real.

"Sooo, like, I brought some cards, wanna play a game?"

At this point, I don't share any of the memories…

"I have no objections, Yuigahama-san. I propose we engage in a round of poker?"

...of the versions of myself that came before.

"Sure, why not. But just so you know, I don't have any money."

Because this version of me was the only one able to return to the normal flow of time.

"Ara, Hikigaya-kun. Gambling in school is a borderline violation of school policies."

But I was given hints.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Figured you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to try to extort something from me."

Those sensations of déjà vu, assistance from my predecessors, undoubtedly allowed me to break free of the endless summer.

"Well, cards are dealt. Swap any?"

Because if I don't think about it that way, then all of those years of imaginary time would have been wasted, erased by the impossibility of the time loop.

"...No, actually."

Well, that said...

"Same here."

If I ever get the opportunity to redo this day…

"Whoa! Hikki, isn't that, like, a really good hand?"

"A royal flush, eh? Looks like the only thing you're lucky at is card games."

...I'll remember to place a bet.

.

 **[1] Kyon-kun, Denwa! Know your meme, guys. If the title didn't give it away, this should have. 100%.**

 **[2] Opening line from "Super Driver," the main Haruhi Suzumiya OP.**

 **[3] A direct quote from the ever-masterlord Watari Wataru's author's note at the end of oregairu volume 5.**

 **[4] Gaeru means frog in Japanese… I know, this 8man nickname is so cliché. But it's also a classic.**

 **[5] Although Google-sensei would reveal this information when prompted correctly, the specific class of IJN battleship with these parameters that I'm referring to would be the Nagato-class dreadnought. *wink wink nudge nudge* No, I'm not a Kancolle hack, I'm just a military history aficionado! Seriously! Also, I'm horrible with remembering character names, so this is the only reason I can remember what Nagato's name is.**

 **.**

 **ER MUH GERD. THIS CHAPTER WAS ENDLESS.**

 **Hi guys… ImaNuke here… Although it seems rather appropriate, this chapter seriously felt endless when I was writing it. At 5k words, it's the longest single chapter I've written yet, and now I'm even more impressed by all you other authors who can just churn out the chapters like some kind of machine...**

 **In reality, the entire prompt and inspiration to make an "endless 8man" chapter came from just that phrase. Seriously, the title was the entire idea. So fleshing out the story came in the form of copying and transforming an abbreviated version of ALL OF ENDLESS EIGHT. I swear, I've watched those episodes so many times I could probably recite them from memory. You thought just watching it once was bad? You ain't seen nothing yet.**

 **So glad I'm done with this chapter.**

 **I guess I'm just not cut out for finishing projects…. Well, there goes any shred of hope I had as being a successful human being. *cries***

 **Anyway, hope you at least appreciated the terrifying evil of this chapter, and as always, thanks for reading.**


	12. The Side Character

The Side Character

.

Kakeru Tobe is a side character.

I thought this as I sat with my elbow on the table and my face slouched in my hand, watching him explain the details to Yuigahama.

"...and, well, I just thought that I'd try and, you know, see how it goes, or something…"

He is a joker. A comedian. A jester. A clown.

I don't know why it occurred to me right then, but I thought these things as I disgustedly watched a slight pinkness creep up the side of his face.

"It was kinda like, you know, at first sight, or whatever. Hit me like a ton of bricks," he laughed nervously.

The things he says are really never that important. They're not well thought out, philosophical, original, meaningful, or sometimes even coherent.

I frowned; perhaps I was being judgemental because I didn't approve of his current request.

"So, like, I was planning on just going for it, basically."

He treats life as just a big joke, where everything is funny. And if it's not funny, he'll make it funny. Because he never takes things seriously.

Even though part of me wanted to dismiss it, I couldn't deny that the things I was thinking about Tobe were undoubtedly true, whether good or bad.

"I mean, I'm not serious about a lot of things, but I'm kinda serious about this."

Kinda serious - that is the limit of his potential. As the ridiculous, ironic, and light hearted mood maintainer, Tobe sits in an even more comfortable middle ground than Hayama. Not only does he keep things light and superficially happy, nobody expects anything of him like they do of Hayato.

I came to these realizations gradually, as I watched Tobe rock back and forth in his chair with a nervous smile on his face.

"So what I'm wondering is, do you guys have any advice?"

I wonder if Tobe's existence is as much of a lighthearted joke as he treats everything else.

"Hmph, advice on confessing? I'm not sure why you came to us for help. Because the only advice I'm gonna give you is 'don't.'"

"Aww… Hikitani-kun… Don't be such a downer…"

"I am in no way being a downer. I'm just being realistic, and you shouldn't expect anything less," I returned proudly.

"Duuuuude…"

"I can't say I disagree with Hikigaya-kun's assessment, however. After all, love at first sight like you said has no basis in fact or logic. It's more likely that you were simply charmed by her appearance."

"Nah, man! We actually had some cool conversation, ya see? We, like, talked for a while and stuff."

"Didn't you say that you just met her at a cafe or something?" I asked.

"Er, yeah, I was just over there yesterday… Oh, and I was totally planning to stop in again today! Ya know? Ya know?" He winked at me. Disgusting. My face probably matched Yukinoshita's expression, actually, which meant that she looked like a queen who'd noticed some particularly filthy rabble and was regally disgusted, while I probably looked like a peasant who didn't want to eat the suspicious lumps in his dirt soup. And really, meeting the girl at a cafe the day before? How unoriginal. It's like he stole the idea from some fictional story. **(A/N: *winks*)**

"Wait, Tobecchi! Don't listen to these two so seriously, they're just pessimists who don't know how to have dreams."

"I do so have a dream. I aspire to be a house-husband-"

"We've heard this before, Hikigaya-kun. It's so overused, you should really quit while you're behind."

"She said that you don't have dreams either, you know."

"Actually, I'm a lucid dreamer. Both at night and in reality."

...wow, that was actually witty for once. I wish I could've said that.

"A-anyway!" Yuigahama clapped her hands to get our attention. "We'll give you a hand, Tobecchi, so don't worry!"

"We will?" Both Yukinoshita and I asked reluctantly.

"Yeah! We're gonna help you get the courage… To confess! Kyaah!" Wow, you sounded like Komachi there for a second. That's like violating Komachi's copyright claim to cuteness, could you stop please? "Let's see, that cafe is open now, right? Let's go right now!" Jeez, such a rush. In that much of a hurry to get Tobe rejected? Well, it's all the same to me. I guess I'll comfort him with a nice "told you so" afterward.

.

Kakeru Tobe is a side character.

I thought this as I watched Tobe approach the girl behind the counter at the cafe.

In no way does his effervescently flippant presence warrant any kind of qualification as a "main character." He's just not that kind of material.

I mused as I watched him laughing and joking with that girl, trying to get a decent atmosphere going.

At best, he's the true main character's comedic best friend, who only appears every couple episodes because the story wants to focus on all the female heroines who are inexplicably in love with the main character. Someone like Hayama, he's main character material. Tobe? Not so much.

I ruminated as I watched him order a soda - no, two sodas. One for him and one for the counter girl.

He may have his moments, but ultimately he doesn't get the spotlight. He's not special enough for that. He's just a supporting character for the people who are smarter, braver, more intelligent. For the nice guy.

I pondered as I watched him tell a random funny anecdote to the girl, gesturing with his hands in a way that was far from that of a certain overly conscious student council president but which still made me shudder in horror at the memory.

Really, everybody probably knows a Tobe. People like him can be found anywhere, anytime, by anyone. They're the guy or girl that lightens the mood by being funny. They're the one that likes small talk because they're too much of a chatterbox that it'd be uncomfortable otherwise. Whether they're a sports jock with a cocky personality or the class clown with the loud mouth or the ironic teenager with the endless lexicon of memes, people like him are anywhere and everywhere.

I contemplated as I watched him look down, look up, and then ask the question with his head tilted sideways, looking up and to the right with a slightly pink face.

If there are so many Tobes out there, I wonder if his life can be said to be any more significant than a single fly, crawling amongst many, on the dumpster of life.

.

Kakeru Tobe is a side character.

I thought this as I rode home on the train, wheels bumping and clacking in the evening sunset.

"Wow…" Yuigahama muttered.

As such, he doesn't think deeply about things. He doesn't try to analyze how he gets along socially. He just does it, because that's what he knows how to do.

I meditated upon this as I leaned against the pole in the middle of the train car, the other two's shoulders jostling against mine as the train creaked and clicked.

"That was…" Yukinoshita sighed.

He doesn't - and will probably never - know the feeling of intellectual satisfaction. But nevertheless, that means his life is unerringly simple. Easy to live. Easy to small talk with people, easy to joke with people, easy to be friends with people. So long as they're not looking for something that isn't superficial.

"I can't say it was unexpected, though," I mused.

"Really? I thought you were expecting that he would get rejected," Yukinoshita commented.

Well, it's pretty simple, I guess.

"...Kakeru Tobe is a side character." I paused to think for a second.

"...He's a clown, he's unimportant , and he's superficial."

"So mean!"

"Shhh."

"...But I guess sometimes, side characters are fine with being side characters. After all, since he's okay with not being deep, he's probably pretty satisfied with his superficial happiness. And even if he's unimportant - no, BECAUSE he's unimportant - the author didn't mind pairing him off with someone. Even side characters can find their own lame little happiness, I suppose."

"Jeez, Hikki, even when you're being positive it's soooo negative…"

"Twisted logic as usual, Hikigaya-kun."

No, it's not twisted at all.

It's perfectly reasonable.

And really, I can't help but wonder.

Would oblivious and shallow happiness be preferable to the jaded wisdom of nonsuperficiality?

I wonder what it would be like to be a fly, crawling amongst many, on the dumpster of life, and yet not know. Not realize. Not care.

For those that are shallow comes shallow happiness.

And for Tobe, well… He doesn't think he's a side character.

 **AP tests suck.**

 **Hey guys, ImaNuke here again, with some more character introspection. I like this format of character musings overlaid with some event that's happening to them, because it lets me turn a simple evaluation or observation about a character into something more concrete. Plus we get 8manxYukino banter. Which is like +80000 points.**

 **In other news, AP tests suck, and I'm so glad that I'm done with them. They've prevented me from typing up any new stories and they've actually managed to penetrate my thick shell of de-stress indifference. So I'm glad that they're done and over with and now I can make some new stuff!**

 **I've got a work in progress that'll be a proper story - it's actually an AU - and I typed this little thing up in one sitting of a couple hours. By the way, that wink earlier was for Firehero, author of the "Yukino the yandere" story. IIRC, one arc begins with Tobe requesting help confessing to a random girl he met at a cafe (it turned out to be orimoto). So I kinda stole the general idea and made it suit my purposes mwa ha ha ha…**

 **As for those of you who were like "dafuq is dis chapter," it's not really about Tobe's request. It's more about 8man's analysis of Tobe. So if you were like "but who was that girl? What about Ebina?" The answers to these questions do not matter, my friends! I special summon, spell card: artistic license! Haha!**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed the 8man philosophy, and as always, thanks for reading.**


	13. Two's Company

Two's company

.

"Never thought that I'd go to a fancy Christmas party with you, eh Hikigaya-kun."

The nighttime wind brushed past Yukinoshita Yukino, flapping her black dress and her raven hair as it continued in its eternal pursuit of the dawn. The clear, cold crescent moon overhead looked down on the glimmering city of Chiba, freshly frosted by the evening dew.

"Can't say that I had considered it likely either," he returned. "Although I must say that, with your family, something ridiculous like a fancy Christmas party was never entirely out of the question."

Yukino rolled her eyes. "That's just how they are. You always said that changing was cowardice, so just accept it already."

"Oh, I've long accepted it." He paused. "I've long accepted everything."

It was silent, the night air stilling momentarily, as Yukino leaned on the balcony railing with her head in her hand. She picked up her yellow wineglass and swirled the contents around absentmindedly, gazing out over the festively lit nighttime.

"It's funny how such a simple request became so complicated," she began again.

"Mmm."

"I mean, we all thought it would be a piece of cake. It wasn't anything like a complex social issue. It didn't require that much difficult work. So it's almost hilarious how…" She trailed off with a slightly amused laugh, which ended in a melancholy sigh.

He smiled slightly - or maybe not. It was hard to tell these days. "I guess it is funny in a way. I mean, all those stickers on that sign, we've succeeded at some hard requests. But really…" He let out a whispery laugh. "Guess this one turned out to be a… Cat-astrophe."

"God, Hikigaya-kun…" Yukino laughed. "Your pun-ishment is fifteen years in the pun-itentiary."

"Ah, well, I've had far worse. It's not all fun and games down here."

"Such a pessimist, as always," she said, feeling simultaneously exasperated and yet wistful at the words that she knew would follow.

"Not a pessimist, just a realist."

The night calmed once more, and a few pricks of starlight could be seen above the city's own. They shone, Yukino knew, with a light from long ago. Trapped in the journey, doomed to arrive millions of years later. And yet the light itself knew not of time. **[1]**

"This happened before, didn't it?" She asked.

"Well, I don't think I've been to a Christmas party with you before."

"Not what I was talking about, you idiot nincompoop Hachiman."

"Whoa, now. Easy on the insults. It's been a while since someone has called me Hachiman, and I need to prepare my self-esteem for the hit."

"You had self-esteem? Since when?"

"Like I've always said, minus the eyes and overall lack of friends, I'm still a high-quality…" He trailed off, sighing like a tree in the breeze. "Yeah, it kinda feels worthless now."

Yukino paused, taking a sip from her glass, and waited for him to continue. The wind had paused its antics momentarily, and the darkened terrace sat in peaceful silence.

"Well, yeah. You should know pretty well that this had happened before. I mean, you were there the first time."

"I suppose so. But don't remind me," she returned.

"I guess it would've hurt just as much for you as it did for me. Newton's first law, right? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."

"Except that's Newton's third law. And besides, it's not like you can use physics to calculate something like emotional damage. What would that unit be, feels per second?" Yukino laughed. "You always were bad at science, Hikigaya-kun."

"Odd, isn't it, for someone so centered around logic?" He mused. "I never could figure that one out. I did spend a good amount of time wondering about that instead of studying science, though."

"And how well did that work out?" She returned dryly.

"About as well as that last request we took," he joked.

Yukinoshita shook her head. Only Hikigaya-kun would find that sort of humor amusing, she thought to herself.

"You know, I never should have taken that request."

"Well, what's done is done. And besides, there was no way anyone would have expected you to turn down a request to help locate a lost cat a week before Christmas. I even felt kind of sorry for it, thinking about it left in the cold. In fact, I was the one who brought the requester to us."

"... I guess so. Ah, Hikigaya-kun, you always had a way of making other people feel like they weren't at fault. Even when they were."

Yukino swirled her drink again, then took a sip. In the distance, the ambience of cars driving and crickets chirping could vaguely be heard to reach their balcony stronghold, countless levels above the street. From inside the building, through a glass wall with a glass door, the subtle murmur and soft yellow light of a high-class party spilled into the night.

"You know it wasn't your fault," he murmured eventually. "If anything, it was my fault for jumping in front of a stupid car again to save somebody's pet."

"At least it was a cat this time," Yukino remarked.

"Well, I guess if I didn't do it, their request wouldn't have been fulfilled."

"You were always far too selfless for your own good, Hikigaya-kun," she sighed.

"Ha. That almost sounds like a good quality. Was that a compliment, miss Ice Queen-sama?"

"Of course, you were selfless in the worst possible way," she amended with a smirk.

"Oh, now she takes it back."

"Hmph. Instead of caring a lot about others, you just didn't care about yourself," she replied, her smugness falling away.

"Oi, oi, have I ever said that I hated myself? I don't. In fact, I love myself. I was always a pretty great person."

"Disgusting."

"You always say that."

"Well… So do you."

Yukino sighed again, her breath making a slight cloud in front of her face. She knew why it happened - the residual warmth from her body heat was causing water droplets in the cold night air to condense in front of her face. But staring at the lonely, murky cloud, all she felt was that the warmth of her aliveness was creating that cloud of confusion. Blooming in front of her face, fogging her vision. Nothing was ever clear in life.

"Objectively speaking, you could have made a pretty great protagonist from those trashy light novels you read."

"I'm not sure if that's praise or not."

"Well, you were fairly average, but still clever in certain areas. Aside from your eyes, you weren't ugly or out of shape. Your determination was always unnecessarily strong. You were always willing to do what it took. And your sense of justice was always present, even though you always denied that."

"You're making me out to sound like a riajuu… Are you trying to make me hate myself or something? You might somehow actually succeed, if you keep this up."

"Ha, like you could have been a riajuu. Even if you hadn't despised their very existence, you were always far too twisted for that."

"Better to be twisted than to be a riajuu."

"That's so you," she said, resigned. "But being a protagonist doesn't always mean you're a riajuu. Rather, I think you could have made some good anti-hero material."

"Sounds interesting."

"Well, you were always one to travel along the road not taken," she quipped, raising her eyebrow.

"You know that's not what that poem's about. Both roads were worn really about the same. But taking the so-called road 'less traveled by' - I guess it really didn't make any difference. I ended up in the same place. So maybe that poem might be accurate anyway." **[2]**

Yukino sighed. "I guess you did have good grades in language." She paused, thinking. "You were always against the norm. Fighting, in your apathetic way, for your own little slice of loner justice. Even while you complained, you still ceaselessly marched your way through difficult work. You always insisted that you were right about being wrong. And, for what it's worth, you made the heroine fall in love with you too."

"Arrogant, describing yourself as a heroine."

"Arrogant, taking my words for granted."

She laughed, and then the night calmed once more. Returning her gaze out over the lights of Chiba, she stared into the unseen, dark horizon. She swirled her glass once and then lifted it gently up to her left, holding her gaze out into the sky, not looking over at the other.

"A toast, Hikigaya-kun?"

He paused a moment. Then he answered.

* * *

Yukinoshita Haruno was, for once in her life, a bit concerned. It was definitely a new experience, she thought. Perhaps her newfound emotional capacity was due to those drinks she'd had earlier at the party. Or maybe it was the Christmas season's "good cheer" getting to her. But, she supposed, the cause of this emotion was perhaps slightly more important than the reason she was actually able to feel it.

It had been a long party for her, as she had expected. Although most normal people were undoubtedly having some kind of casual celebration and enjoying their holiday, Haruno knew that hers would be nowhere as much fun. Instead, she had slipped on her "good-girl PR mask," as she liked to call it, in order to deal with the various business dignitaries and political figures who had been invited to the occasion. After all, she thought ironically, now that she was almost the head of the company, her parents were dictating her actions more than ever. She wondered why being in charge meant so much of being told what to do. But, she thought resignedly, that was just the way things were. And so she continued on her rounds as the soon-to-be head of the Yukinoshita company.

Now, however, she had managed to catch a break from all the guests' meaningless and uninteresting jabber. In fact, not much was interesting these days, she thought bitterly. Not since that had happened.

It had been almost exactly a year, Haruno realized. Only a few days before had been the anniversary. She wondered how her sister was holding up. Undoubtedly, Haruno thought wryly, Yukino had realized what the date meant far before she had. But Haruno hadn't seen her at the party, even though she was invited and was practically guaranteed to come. It wasn't like she would have had anywhere else to go - her only friend, that Gahama-chan girl, had moved away about nine months ago to attend a different high school, and Haruno knew of her sister's aloof tendencies. There wasn't likely to be another party she could go to.

Sitting down with an exhausted sigh, Haruno had escaped from the hustle and bustle of the party to find a secluded couch next to the glass door to the balcony. She had only taken two sips from her drink when she realized that the low murmur she was hearing was someone speaking, outside on the balcony. Turning around on the sofa, Haruno realized that she knew that someone. It was her little sister.

Haruno was almost never worried. But right now, she was worried about her sister. She was worried about Yukino. Because try as she might, she couldn't find it in herself to not care.

It had been a little over a year since the accident.

Trying to save a cat for one of their service club requests, that little cynic - that little fool - had dived in front of a car. Again.

Him surviving the first accident, on his first day of high school, was a small miracle. Thanks to the connections of the Yukinoshita family, the quick reactions of the chauffeur, and his own resilient nature, he had managed a full recovery. That was the first time.

Yukino stood outside, gazing at the clouds, raising a glass in her left hand. Haruno heard her next words clearly.

"A toast, Hikigaya-kun?"

Haruno turned away, feeling something unpleasant and discomfiting in her chest. And something wet in her eye.

It had been a little over a year since Hikigaya Hachiman had died.

* * *

"A toast."

There was an audible clink.

"Merry Christmas," whispered the wind, as it brushed past Yukino's lips, curled in a soft, melancholic smile.

She was alone on the balcony.

.

 **[1] Einstein's theory of special relativity**

 **[2] "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost. But you probably knew that already. Also references the book "The Road Not Taken: Finding America in the Poem Everyone Loves and Almost Everyone Gets Wrong" by David Orr.**

.

 **Greetings, ImaNuke here.**

 **This one was dark, I know. And yet… Well, dark stuff is fun. In fact, I have multiple ideas in the works for darker oneshots/short stories. So be prepared for more ;)**

 **I'm a little curious how long it took you readers to figure out that 8man was a ghost. If you leave a review (which I am always unopposed to), do tell me.**

 **I should mention that this idea came while I was adventuring in the dark recesses of the oregairu fanfiction registry… aka the "old fics." When you scroll down far enough or page over to the final page of listed fanfictions, you'll find numerous old, abandoned oneshots. (I recommend reading many of these, by the way. Many fabulous authors like Loner-kun, Some Chinese Guy, and others have oneshots that ended up down there.) One of these was called "Empty House," by SnowPlow, another master of oregairu fanfics. Although you'll have to go read it yourself to find out what happened (mua ha ha ha), I will tell you that throughout it, I was under the impression that 8man had died. When I realized that I was wrong, I thought to myself, "Well, wouldn't a fic like that be interesting?" So I wrote this.**

 **Anyway. I have a few ideas for legitimate AU short stories that I might manage to finish sooner or later. So I'll catch you next time, and as always, thanks for reading.**


	14. Monday

Monday, or,

The curious juxtaposition of the past and the future

Popularity comes from many places.

When it comes to the social ladder and clique dynamics, telling who's superior and who's inferior is often subjective, and a matter of opinion. Plus, people tend to make such assessments based on their instinctual reactions to the other's personality.

However, there are also clear-cut cases of social superiority - take Hayama and his group of shiny new marbles. Even Sagami and her clique's position on the ladder is quite clearly leagues above my own.

In this sense, social interactions are something of a battlefield. Things like your appearance, certain extracurriculars, and your family's wealth can affect your "individual unit power" - so Hayato is basically a bloody Death Star, while I am a mere foot soldier with an RPG. Of course, I fight back at this unbalanced game and all those OP normalfags with my epic positioning and tactics skills. In fact, I could probably do this professionally. Esports!

But the worst type of player in the game of social warfare is the hater. They're the type of person that gets their popularity by insulting other groups of people, stereotyping and judging, the whole nine yards.

It's the most capitalistic of strategies - crush the backs of the weak to prove you are the strong. They are the ruthless business moguls and mafia bosses, whose only type of conversation is to bitch about how other people are such tryhards, so uncool. They stick people into classifications and then ruthlessly bash them, all the while refusing to even acknowledge anything that they themselves could be similarly insulted for. They escape being judged themselves by never actually contributing anything - you never put anything in, nobody can possibly make fun of you for it, right?

Haters also almost always come from the more powerful ranks of the social battle as well. After all, a leader of a clique is more easily able to make their brainwashed duckling followers agree with their hatin'. Comparatively, a low-level follower trying to pull it off might come across as shallow and lame.

They are the ghost snipers of the game, who target others and never get hit themselves, because the way they steer all their conversations is by making fun of anyone who's sufficiently unironic.

Do I have anything against haters?

No, actually.

Well, I can't deny that I rather strongly dislike Sagami. And Miura always gets on my nerves with all her "haah?"-ing and "what are you talking about, insect?" glares. Plus, loners with dead fish eyes are prime targets for anyone who wants to better their social standing by gossiping about and looking down on people. (Source: Would you believe me if I said it was a distant cousin?)

So maybe I do have something against them.

And I would say that I'm also probably not one of them. (High social standing? You kidding?)

But still, regardless of whether I'm one of them or not…

I really hate Mondays.

.

Incidentally, today was a Monday.

So I was having a rather crapsack time, as expected.

Having gone at it long into the night with my beloved Vita-chan, I was so exhausted in the morning that I barely had time to get ready and eat breakfast. Even though I pedaled like Mara Abbott at the end of an Olympic cycling race, I was still nearly late to first period homeroom. And then, after getting an unnecessarily hard warning jab at my already spinning head from the Emperor-less Empress, I realized that I left my wallet with my lunch money in it at home.

I may as well go fail to kidnap some rich child and get hired as her butler as a result, my luck was so bad.

Maybe she would give me some lunch money.

Maybe I could play reverse old maid and win some money using my abysmally bad luck.

Nah, I'd probably just end up saddled with even more debt. As if 150 million yen wasn't enough. Wait, I don't actually have a debt like that in real life, do I?

Of course, I could barely keep my head up and my thoughts lucid during morning classes, which lead to a frightening twitching eyebrow on Hiratsuka-sensei's face. Never a good sign.

On the bright side though, all my other teachers basically don't acknowledge my existence, so I managed to get a tiny bit of sleep. Unfortunately, all that did was make me feel more tired, as well as give me that wonderful "just-woke-up" taste in my mouth.

You know things are great when people not acknowledging your existence is a good thing.

By the time lunch rolled around, I'd had it. A spitball was stuck in my hair (I fished it out), a crumpled note had landed on my desk (which the inaccurate thrower snatched back with a dirty look at me), and Yuigahama was yelling much too loudly in my ear to "Wake up, Hikki!"

I rolled out of my seat like a hibernating bear who'd been woken by a camera flash. "Can I help you?" I asked in a rather growly voice. Yuigahama looked at me, rather confused, then giggled. What!? What's so funny?

"You look like a grumpy moose."

"A moose? Where'd that come from? At least qualify me as a bear," I grouched, standing up to head to lunch...yeah, lunch.

Right.

Didn't have one of those.

I sat back down with a heavy sigh.

"Hey, Hikki, um, you should, uh… you should come to the clubroom for lunch time."

I looked up with a quirked eyebrow at Yuigahama, whose eyes were fixated at a point on the wall above my head. "And why would I do that? Plus, as you can see… I. Have. No. Lunch." I groused, gesturing to the empty desk in front of me.

"Eh? You don't have a lunch?" Yuigahama asked in surprise and… was she…smiling? What the hell? Schadenfreude? This isn't funny, you know! And I thought you were a nice girl! Why are you taking pleasure at my misery?

"You…" I growled.

"Wait! Okay! So! Um…" she eloquently began, holding up her palms in a "stop" gesture. Then she snapper her fingers and pointed at me, like she'd just figured out a game show answer. "Right! Yukinon said she had something about the club to talk about!"

Internally, I groaned. I didn't wanna walk alllllllllllllllllll the way over to the special building and then alllllllllllllll the way back. Have some respect for the dead, please! And by dead I mean dead tired! Though I'm still not too dead to make puns, apparently.

And moreover…

"What could Yukinoshita possibly have to talk about that can't wait until club later today?" I sighed.

"Ummm… I dunno! She just said to come!" Yuigahama insisted, pouting in frustration.

I sighed, louder. "Come on… just let me wallow in my mis - er, I mean let me get some rest at least…"

She just puffed up her cheeks bigger and crossed her arms over her chest, like a two-year-old having a tantrum...except, you know. Certain non-two-year-old assets were emphasized...I laid my head down between my arms. Purity of mind. "No, you come on! Why do you listen to Yukinon and not me?"

As exhausted as I was, I rolled my head slightly to the side in my arms and glared (albeit tiredly) up at her. "How dare you say that I just obey anything Yukinoshita says. I have a little bit more self-worth than that. At the very least, I bitch and complain for a minimum of three times as long as it took her to explain exactly what manual labor she wants me to do this time."

Yuigahama paused momentarily to give me a thoughtful look. "You must be really tired, you're only this self-deprecating when you're stressed…" Then she reverted to her attempts to pouty face me into compliance. "Come oooon, Hikki!"

"Nooo…"

"Pweeeze!"

"Nyeeeet…"

"Uggggghhhuuuu!"

"What the hell was that anyway…"

"Fine," she said, stomping her feet, "I'll do it myself," and then she grabbed my limp left arm before I could pull away and tried to tow me out of my chair.

"Wait! Hang on! I can stand up on my own! Leggo of my arm!"

She complied… and then proceeded to try to push me bodily out the door.

"Jeez! I can walk on my own!" And I can feel them, so stop! Respect personal space!

.

I arrived at the clubroom without any further tugboating from Yuigahama, although she did ask me why I was walking so slowly. I just gave her a deadpan look, like, Seriously?

She was still sort of giggling as she opened the clubroom door ahead of me, then gasped and slammed it shut.

"Oh shoot, I forgot! Um… Hikki, wait out here until we tell you to come in!" Then she slipped the door open and slid inside. What the hell, are they hiding dead bodies in there? I'm pretty sure fulfilling a request ends if we hit a legal boundary, like a felony charge. Will the manual labor this time be grave-digging? I'm sorry, but I don't think I can handle six feet of shoveling on 2 hours of sleep.

My stomach growled.

No, Hachiman! Even if you're starving, don't turn out like Rin! I must NEVER SUCCUMB TO REDHEADEDNESS!

...I think I'm kinda tired.

"You can come in now!"

Yeah, sitting down sounds like a good idea.

I slid open the clubroom door and briefly wondered if I was hallucinating. Or maybe I was having a sleep-deprivation-induced LSD trip?

No, all those garishly bright colors on the walls were real. My vision swam with orange streamers and yellow ribbons and other indistinct patches of color. I stood at the door for a moment, my jaw a little slack, then I snapped back to myself, closed the door, and walked over to slide into my usual seat.

"So what's this about?"

The other two looked as surprised as I felt. "Er...you didn't…?" Yukinoshita stammered confusedly. I shrugged questioningly. Yuigahama looked at me, looked at Yukinoshita, looked back at me. Then she giggled and pointed to a giant banner at the front of the room.

Happy Birthday, Hikki!

It took me almost two full seconds to get it. "Riiiiiight...today is August eighth, isn't it…"

Yukinoshita made a strange noise that was evidently a muffled snort of laughter. "Of course...it's just like Hikigaya-kun to forget his own birthday…"

"Hey now, don't look down on me. I'm just tired, that's all. Normally, I'd totally be guilt-tripping you to be nice to me because special birthday privileges and stuff."

"Hikigaya-kun…sometimes I wonder if you put effort into sounding like a scumbag, or if it just comes naturally."

I snorted. "All-natural, of course. I could do this in my sleep. Hell, I practically am doing this in my sleep." My stomach growled again. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I would like to use this time to get some rest…wait...hang on a minute," I said, all the implications catching up to my tired brain. "You guys didn't really invite me here for manual labor at all, did you."

They shook their heads in unison.

"So you guys pulled me out during lunch break to tell me happy birthday."

They both looked down at different spots on the floor, but nodded.

"So what you're saying is, you pulled me out of my not-that-comfortable desk and interrupted my short-lived rest for nothing."

"Eh?" They both fairly shouted in surprise.

"Well, I mean, I appreciate the epilepsy-inducing streamers, but we're all old enough to be sad that we're getting another year older."

"What a pessimistic view as always, Hikigaya-kun."

"Not pessimistic, just realistic. Think about it. Soon, we'll all be off to college - that'll be miserably stressful. Seriously, 3 hours of studying for 1 hour of class? Then we'll have to get unsatisfying jobs that we only tolerate, to earn a salary that'll go mostly towards unhealthy food and the rent for whatever rundown apartment we're living in. Well, I guess you, Yukinoshita, will be working an unsatisfying job that you only tolerate to earn a salary that'll outstrip ours by several powers of ten. Then we'll all get old, and think about all the stuff we could've done but didn't, and by the time we've got enough time for fun, we'll all be too old for anything exciting. Then we'll all get old, maybe get stuck in a retirement home with a case of dementia, and then we'll die. The end."

Silence.

"Wow, Hikki…"

"...that is the most depressing outlook on a birthday party that I've ever heard."

I rubbed my tired eyes. "Well, no point in being sour grapes about life's mediocrity. Time doesn't care if you want it to rush ahead or stand still, it just does what it always does. And birthdays are an excuse for me to get a present from Komachi, too."

"Siscon." So fast!

"You didn't have to both say it. And besides, it's more about the free stuff than anything else."

"Actually, Hikki, we have more than just decorations," Yuigahama said, looking meaningfully at Yukinoshita.

"Ah, right… Well, I can't guarantee your safety, though," she said, and reached into a large bag by her feet, pulling out… A cake!?

"The cake is a lie…." I muttered deliriously.

"What're you talking about, Hikki?" Yuigahama asked in confusion.

"Well, unfortunately, he might be right," said Yukinoshita as she placed the cake on the table. "After all, Yuigahama helped make it."

...

It was at this point that I knew.

I fucked up.

"So, right now, I've got to choose between starvation and Yuigahama's cooking?"

"Hey! Come on… This is getting old, guys…" Yuigahama pouted.

"I did help her make it, and she has improved… Slightly…" Yukinoshita said, sounding as tired as I felt.

My stomach rumbled.

I steeled my resolve.

"I'll eat it," I sighed.

.

Later that afternoon, after classes were over, I returned to the clubroom (with Yuigahama of course, who caught up to me in the hallway. She just doesn't know how to leave a body alone). But I didn't mind the company. As unlucky and nonsensical as the day had been for me, it was undeniably a nice feeling to have people who remembered your birthday.

My two clubmates actually weren't the only ones, either - I was wished a glorious "happy birthday" by my beautiful angel Totsuka.

Also, some random chuuni had started spouting lines like "Long before, in the ancient abyss, we stood amongst all times. And the fates decreed that we should choose one day of all the years…" and then he kinda faded out before muttering "happy birthday" awkwardly.

And even a certain somethingsomething person passed my desk and muttered about how she'd heard it was my birthday from Taish-er, some random insect (who knew kawhatever could talk to beetles?), so she was gonna wish me a happy b-day. Although the only thing I could wonder was where he had gotten that info - from Komachi, perhaps? I would have to check. She would not expect the Hachiman inquisition.

When we arrived at the clubroom, Yukinoshita was already taking down most of the decorations and putting them away. Yuigahama and I pitched in to help, and soon the paper was gone and replaced by the wafting scent of Yukinoshita's tea brewing.

So of course, those two just had to wait till I took a sip of tea to spring the final surprise of the day on me.

"We bought you presents."

Fortunately, my spit-take was more of a spray of fine mist. There wasn't much tea in my mouth - I have mentioned that I've got a cat's tongue.

Yukinoshita's present was relatively unsurprising. I had expected something very Yukinoshita-esque, and three books seemed pretty accurate.

"It's called L'Etranger, and it's a novel translated from French. So I got you the Japanese copy, the French copy, and a French-to-Japanese dictionary."

"The last one seems overkill...wait, Albert Camus? I've heard of this guy, this book should be pretty good."

"Heh, if you ever want to get out of your bronze-medal rut in humanities, I advise multilingual fluency. And I must say that I didn't really agree with that book, but I knew while I was reading it that you'd enjoy it."

Yuigahama went with something a little bit unorthodox.

"What's this thing for? Is it an umbrella?"

"Almost," she grinned, practically jumping up and down in excitement. "It's for your bike! Like, if it's raining, but you don't wanna get all wet and stuff, you can use that!"

"Wow...that's unexpectedly clever coming from you…"

"Uuuuugh you guys are so mean...I'm not a dummy!"

"It's okay, Yuigahama," I said consolingly, "don't let them bully you."

She pouted some more. Seriously, this girl spams that move more than Pikachu uses Thunder in smash. Yuigahama Yui used Pout! It's super effective!

"Well, uh, thanks for the gifts, guys. Being serious here, it was...well, it's kinda nice to get an actual little birthday party, you know?" I said, speeding through the words. Even as I spoke, though, I realized my mistake: I just gave Yukinoshita nuclear fucktons of ammo for a spicy retort. I could smell it coming a mile away, like an evening thunderstorm on the horizon.

But then she just nodded awkwardly, and said, "Well, now we're even."

Even?

Well, I guess…

Till next year, anyway.

I nodded awkwardly back. Communication? Yeah, we're great at this.

I turned around to look at Yuigahama, who I was surprised hadn't made any noise so far. She was turned completely away from us, facing the opposite direction, and when she turned around I saw why.

"What are you… Crying?" Little tears had beaded in the corners of her eyes. "Why?"

She looked at me for a moment, then suddenly gave me a quick, lightning-fast hug. I didn't even have time to react. "You know, coming from just anybody, what you just said would've been kinda curt...but we know you, Hikki, and that really means a lot."

I couldn't help turning a little red. "Ah, you two are too nice for your own good."

"...Ara, Hikigaya-kun? Since when have I ever led you to the false impression that I was nice?"

I chuckled. "Of course, never. In fact, the word 'nice' was invented specifically to describe 'not you.'"

And so we finished off the two girls' surprisingly good cake - maybe I was just hungry, but I couldn't remember ever tasting anything better - and our lives moved forward another inch.

A birthday might be a milestone, but it's a day no different from any other. We slowly creep towards our future, centimeter by centimeter, minute by minute, day by day. And as we dread what we know will eventually come, we have the right to enjoy ourselves in what we've got right now.

Happy birthday, me.

.

 **Yo guys, ImaNuke here… And yes! Today is August 8th!**

 **Happy birthday 8man!**

 **Actually, I think it's the 9th by the time I finish typing this. Cri cri. I wanted it up on time.**

 **Well, I think - and you'll probably agree - that if oregairu goes to their third year, they'll definitely see a nice birthday scene in August. First, though, comes Isshiki's birthday. And before that, Yuigahama's.**

 **Speaking of Yui, I feel like she doesn't get a lot of love because she's got a crush on 8man and that's sort of viewed as a bad thing. So I tried to give her some moments. Fluff? If you squint hard enough? Be like 8man and read the fine print on the lines between the lines that are between the lines. Eh, I guess I just focused on keeping them in-character as much as possible.**

 **Hope you liked it. It was fun for me to write.**

 **As an author, the only way I can tell that you, the reader, actually read and liked or disliked mah story is if you comment! Or fave, follow, whatever, 'sall good.**

 **As always, thanks for reading, and I'll catch you next time.**


	15. Discrepancies, or, It Could Be Either

Discrepancies, or, It Could Be Either Of Their Monologues

.

The vast hallway stretched to infinity, barren in the late afternoon light.

The dull, bloody light of the dying sun glared weakly in, grasping at its final hours of life.

A chill wind blew through the corridor. With it came a shiver, and the rustling of leaves - all brown, and wrinkled with death. I watched as one gently waved on a thin tree branch, like a sad, stiff flag of surrender. It had died before it even fell to the ground - stillborn, on a tree that had borne no fruit.

For a moment, I found it to be an amusingly apt metaphor for my current situation, and I gave a slight smile.

But then again, that was all just pure arrogance.

Such a disgustingly self-centered thought.

The truth was, neither the leaf not the tree it had grown upon had done anything wrong at all. They had simply been victims of circumstance.

But if they were victims of circumstance, then I was the victimizer. For I would do everything wrong, and knowingly so. And yet, my foolish pride wouldn't have it any other way.

Oh, truly I was a fool.

Of course, the situation I stood in was what any normal person would surely envy. But then again, "any normal person" was certainly a vague description. And possibly an arrogant one too - wasn't I implying myself to be somehow not an average person? Sure, some people would have tried to say that I wasn't a normal person. But exteriors, especially shiny ones, can be extraordinarily deceiving. Everyone loves to just assume the best motivations for people's actions, regardless of the reality of the matter. Yes, I knew better: the truth was that deep inside, I was completely and utterly underwhelming.

The afternoon sun glows, the breeze rustles, the leaves blow, outside the secretive outpouring of feelings - such a situation is only a cliché. In reality, such things are simply illusions, facades.

Heh, now that was a subject I knew a lot about.

And so, as she stood there with an uncharacteristically nervous expression, I knew that today was the day she would learn: dreams were only ever meant to be dreams.

But to have a so-called "rosy youth?" Many would probably say that I already had it. An outside observer, perhaps; an objective reader… perusing the book of life; even my classmates.

Yet I knew that in truth, I could neither truly have nor be truly content with anything as shallow as that.

Heh, me calling something else shallow.

That's rich.

.

She spoke the words I had been expecting, thoroughly steeped in true, quivering emotion.

That made it all the easier.

She told me she liked me - no, she loved me. She had for quite a while now.

Admittedly, it was quite expected.

But that foolish idealism - to think, someone like me criticizing an ideal! - I knew it to be twisted, warped.

The idealistic confession - a lonesome pair wait in the evening sunset; a gentle breeze blows down the rose-lit hallway, as shimmering feelings tumble through the air; leaves rustle outside, pink Sakura petals floating in time with the buoyancy of youth.

But the truth of the matter was much staler. The sun was not pink, but blood-red, crimson tears of future regret. The breeze was cold, and I shivered. The leaves were not pink, but brown, dead.

And those shimmering feelings - ah, how arrogant it would be to downplay the sincerity of the innocent victim, the confessor! - those beautiful, pitiful, ill-fated feelings, they would unavoidably come to naught.

But then, at whose hand? What cruel tyrant would crush the hopes for youth, the valiant effort to realize that youth, the courageous charge towards the enemy trenches for the victory of youth.

Would it be the hand of fate? - but, of course, that would be blind foolishness. I can no longer hide my eyes, lie to myself, that she and I are simply victims of circumstance.

The hand of fate is not the one stained with unwashable blood.

The cruel tyrant's hand can only be that of myself.

.

I gave a smile. No, that's wrong. I can't simply call it a smile, for it was far more, and more prominently, far less, than any true smile.

I gave a forced smile.

Such a perfect expression of the mood of the moment. No true confession is ever as raw, unstaged, and connected as the cliché claims in fiction. Rather, a confession like this is akin to driving a rental car, or perhaps sleeping in a hotel room far from home. A borrowed vehicle, a borrowed bed. It is simply an act, unfamiliarity and uncomfortableness hidden inside the thick armor of the tank called "follow the procedure." Bulldozing ahead, the participants hiding their true feelings while engaging in a ceremony in which they are supposed to reveal their true feelings.

And so, I gave a forced smile. A patented smile. A practiced smile.

The best lies are the ones to which some truth belongs.

"I'm very happy to hear of your feelings for me…"

...although it's more of an ego trip than anything else, I want to add. An unnecessary ego trip, too - egos are dangerous things.

But I say my lines, reading from the scripted drama. Although I couldn't care less about how I feel, I don't want to unnecessarily hurt the poor girl.

Then again, "letting someone down easy" is a pathetic excuse of a phrase.

Suitable for someone as pathetic as I.

"...but I'm sorry."

Well, I am truly sorry.

She did nothing to deserve this.

And a seasoning of truth makes the lie go down easier.

"I can't accept your feelings."

.

The aftermath was as Boolean as could be expected - either a happy yes scene or a sad no scene. Tears were shed, faces turned red, the sad frown wasn't turned upside down. My forced smile became a forced regretful smile, which only served to compound its cringiness, and the lonely hallway became one person lonelier.

"But why not?" She had asked tearfully. "Why can't you accept my feelings? I thought - I thought - I just -"

I stood as always, regretful smile plastered on like a Halloween mask, hearing the echoes of someone that sounded like my voice say "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

No, perhaps it was true. Maybe it really was impossible to accept her feelings...her love?

Ah, love. A powerful word, bandied about like a sidearm in Texas. People fail to realize exactly what they're talking about when it comes to love, though. Romantic love, after all, only came into its own in the past few centuries. A human invention, through and through. Familial love has been around longer, but that's more of an instinct than an emotion. And personal love, of course, is simply where you fall on the sliding scale of "smart" to "arrogant."

But well, I'm definitely not smart.

So perhaps I'll allow myself this moment of arrogance.

She had said that she loved me…love, can it even be said to be real? It's merely a human philosophical idealism, and we all know how idealisms are…

She had said that she loved me.

But how can I accept that, when I can't even love myself?

 **Heyoooo! ImaNuke here again, giving you all...holy cow this is barely even a paragraph!**

 **Yeah, I'm expecting the typical "so shoooort author-san" in the reviews (well, that's assuming that I get any)... But rather than wondering, "why doesn't this idiot write more words?" Or "why does nothing ever happen in these stories?" I want you instead to ask yourself, "But who's the narrator, anyway?"**

 **Reader: "...eh? Why?"**

 **Me: Aw, come on! Was there really so little narrator ambiguity?**

 **...look at this guy, doing his own literary criticism in the A/N. As art teachers are wont to say, if the author has to explain his art, then it's not good art. Conclusion: this fool sucks at writing.**

 **I will say this, though: if you need a hint, reread the title.**

 **Well, anyway.**

 **If you enjoyed (or want to complain about only 1k words), review, fave, follow, etc. Unfortunately, I can't read minds, so that's the only way I'll know if you liked the story or hated it or even actually read it…**

 ***steps down off soapbox***

 ***clears throat***

 **As always, thank you all for reading, and I'll (metaphorically) see you next time.**


	16. The Grass Is Always Greener

"The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence."

Or so the saying goes, anyway. Personally, I'm not really one to buy into the type of naively foolish and idealistic little maxims that you find on cat posters and in kindergarten classrooms. Stuff like "believe in your dreams" always sort of ticks me off - at the very least, it's rather cruel to misinform innocent children like that. "Tell yourself you're beautiful every day" is nothing more than lying to yourself until you believe it, and stuff like "work hard, it pays off" isn't even close to being true - more like "trying is the first step towards failure." And that first poster should say something like "only believe in what you can easily accomplish yourself with little effort (and if it involves other people don't be surprised when you fail)."

Well, I say that, but…

Actually, "the grass is always greener" is surprisingly accurate. Uncannily accurate, even.

I would even go so far to say that even if everything else is subjective and therefore capable of being false, that expression would be the one absolute truth still standing.

Of course, not everyone bothers to look for the other side of the fence. Some people don't even know there's a fence out there. But for those that are self-aware enough to realize that the present and future are all dictated by decisions that you've already made in the past, wishing for something different, something better, isn't even close to uncommon.

I was currently wishing for just such a thing on this evening in the middle of autumn. At this time of year, one could say the grass was getting yellowed rather than greener, but I was a bit preoccupied with flowers instead, so I had no time to worry about that. Earlier in the afternoon, I had slipped out of the house, avoiding Komachi's watchful gaze (she was asleep on the couch), and biked to one of the many stores in Chiba's shopping district. Certainly there were a good number of different markets to be found in the various shops, and as expected of the lovely city I found my destination in no time. Unfortunately, my relief at having not failed in my store-searching endeavor was immediately replaced by another stress... I was going to have to go in there now, wasn't I…

The trouble with being alone is that one always feels out of place. The common sentiment of a "comfort zone" is easily acquired when hanging around with a group of good friends (not that I would know) - but at any rate, I had no such high-level skill as to be able to bring a Greek-style chorus with me everywhere I went. To be fair, however, coping was a simple matter of either departing quickly or ignoring the uncomfortable prickling feeling of stares wondering what the heck is this weirdo doing here, by himself no less…

It was with these encouraging thoughts that I found myself entering the flower shop. The chime dinged pleasantly as my nose was assaulted by the overpowering fragrance of no flowers at all. I suppose they're all refrigerated for freshness, eh? That would explain the chilliness as well…

The cashier was busy with a trio of younger girls who were probably either first years or middle schoolers. I shivered, and it wasn't because of the glass-door flower coolers - a pack of girls in a flower shop was like a school of piranhas in the Amazon river. They giggled and whispered and glanced at each other and basically made me retreat behind a nearby display shelf piled high with the most random assorted junk I had ever seen. Probably flower holders or something, I thought, and also please leave soon.

After a sufficient amount of awkwardly perusing assorted wire sculptures, the guards finally left the front desk and I was able to approach and place my order.

Upon hearing my request, the cashier gave a knowing nod and a slight smirk tugged at the edge of her mouth.

"I'm afraid we're almost out of those by now, all I have is a silver and a red to choose from…"

I didn't want to hesitate awkwardly, so I answered quickly. "Silver, please."

"Okay then, if you'll just wait right there, I'll have one made in just a minute."

And so, after another stretch of awkward pacing about on the tiled floor and another question - "What color do you want the wristband to be?" "Navy blue" - I finally had the corsage that I came for.

And now, I lay in my room, corsage hidden in my bottom drawer, contemplating life. Or more precisely, regretting one particular decision. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, after all, and the stress was really making me wish that I hadn't agreed to this particular endeavor. I suppose it was my fault to begin with though…

After long years of stubbornly holding out, I had finally surrendered to the injustice of social norms.

I was going to a dance with someone.

Before you start saying stuff like "Go kill yourself, you bloody riajuu", rest assured, I was already telling myself that.

Teenagers feel morally superior by looking down on love and relationships, and I myself was an avid participant in that. But to be fair, if a girl stammeringly asks you out on a date, then even if you treat it as a trip between friends for most of the day, it's a good idea to make sure that you haven't mistaken anything.

 _"So, I know that it's definitely a common occurrence for guys to misconstrue things, and misunderstandings are the worst sort of outcome… but I just wanted to check anyway. Did you invite me out here today as friends, or…?"_

Personally, I'm a staunch advocate for reserved opinions. Dancing around the point is far and away the best method of preserving dignity should you be completely mistaken, or if the other person doesn't reciprocate your feelings. But sometimes, it's better to just go straight to the root of the matter and screw the consequences. At the very least, you won't get a confusing answer.

 _She shook her head quietly as she stared at her feet._

Well, I guess it was a bit confusing anyway.

 _"So… in that case… do you wanna…?"_

But in the end, myself and Kawasaki Saki ended up going to the school dance together.

.

Isshiki had pitched the idea of a homecoming-style dance a few months back, and the school had lit up at the prospect. Myself excluded, of course; I had plans of either staying the evening with my dear beloved Vita-chan, or perhaps going to bed early. But for the rest of the school, it was like an out-of-season Valentine's day. And, well, now that I had a… somebody to go with… to be honest, it was the social pressure. And, perhaps, it may have also been a little bit because I kind of didn't want to disappoint Kawasaki.

The two of us were like first-time dancers, an ironically suitable analogy for the situation; neither of us knew the steps, neither of us knew where we were going… all we knew was to keep in time and to not step on each other's feet.

Most of society views having a… datey-person as something to be desired; I'm here to tell them that the grass is always greener on the other side. Sure, it's not all bad: We ate lunch together in peaceful solitude. Afterwards, her lips always tasted vaguely of whatever she had in her bento. And the look of utter astonishment on my clubmates' faces was rather amusing when I told them I had a...somebody I was going out with. Unfortunately for me, both Yuigahama and Isshiki got that sparkly look in their eyes and demanded that I tell them all about it…

But in this present moment, I'm regretting my decision to ask Kawasaki to the dance. Perhaps it's selfish of me. But honestly, all I can see is an evening of awkwardly walking around amidst crowds of people and not knowing what the hell we're supposed to do.

Then again, the grass is always greener on the other side. I may wish that I could change my decision right now, but when it's all said and done, maybe it won't be that bad.

There'll probably be a really long line to get in. While we're waiting, Tobe will probably walk by and say, in his obnoxious friendly tone, "Oh, Hikitani and Kawasaki! Lookin' good!" And then I'll fix my mistake where I forgot to compliment her awesome dress by muttering, "What he said."

We might try dancing; we might play a card game. More likely, we'll just sit in a corner somewhere and talk a little.

We'll probably sit in the stands and make fun of all the popular people on the homecoming court.

And, when it's time to go, I'll find out what she ate for dinner beforehand.

Maybe the grass is always greener on the other side, but I guess having a... having a girlfriend isn't as wrong as I had expected.

.

 **Hey guys, ImaNuke here. Short A/N this time, I think.**

 **Got another story in the works that I need to finish up.**

 **...tbh, this one was kinda lame, wasn't it.**

 **Oh well. Hopefully the next one should be better. And besides, Kawasaki is always a redeeming feature xD**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading, and as always cya next time.**


	17. Something Worse than Trust

Something Worse than Trust

.

I cannot read minds.

As far as I am aware, that particular ability is reserved for fictional characters with superpowers. Granted, modern neuroscience has come a long way, but something like mind-reading is still a technological impossibility.

And so, regardless of my well-developed understanding of human behaviors, and regardless of how well I can predict people's motivations, actions, and their results, I am far from some kind of omniscient, all-knowing being.

Regrettably, seeing people's thoughts is not one of my 108 special skills.

What I can do, however, is make guesses. Not just blind guesses, either. Educated guesses. Guesses backed with evidence. Rather than knowing with absolute certainty exactly what will transpire, in reality I'm simply very good at outlining all of the possible outcomes from a situation, and the likelihood of each.

The particular set of my 108 special skills that allow me to read between the lines so well are frustratingly limited in that regard. As useful as they are, it _isn't_ mind-reading. But after all, this is real life - a place where the only thing that's absolutely certain is uncertainty.

It's all well and good to know that a girl who seems to be dropping "I like you" hints is a so-called "nice girl," but even with that information one simply can't just remove the possibility. Sure, the chance of you misconstruing something is certainly very high, and it's important to be aware of the relative probability for each outcome. But if one is interested in truly being observant, in truly trying to read other people's motivations, no possibility can be completely eliminated.

It was only recently that I had personally begun to acknowledge this specific viewpoint. In the past, I had simply disregarded unlikely results, for a very simple reason: although ignoring outcomes with a very low possibility meant that it was possible for you to be wrong, sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Yes, the trouble with letting possibilities linger - what if you somehow got into that really hard school? what if you magically did really well on that test? what if she actually likes you? - the trouble with letting these thoughts linger inside one's head is that they produce the most dangerous drug mankind has ever known: the hallucinogen called "hope."

Oh, certainly it's sometimes better to have the full story. But if knowledge is power, and power corrupts, then...

Well, suffice it to say that I had hoped Yukinoshita Haruno, for once in her life, was wrong.

.

 _"Oh, so you're aware. You're right - it's not trust. It's something far more sinister."_

.

"You know, I'm not even going to bother asking how the hell you managed to find me."

"Ara, Hikigaya-kun, are you becoming predictable?" returned the purple-eyed vixen, pulling up a chair at my table in the dusky coffee shop.

"I hope so, then maybe you'll leave me alone." If it works for opossums, maybe it'll work for me too.

"Fufu, playing dead? But you can't fool your Onee-san, Hikigaya-kun. Or I might just bury you on accident." The smile she flashed was more like a carnivore baring its teeth.

"With my luck, I'll get you as a cellmate in hell…" Actually, it was more likely that she would be the one in charge, wasn't it…

"Oh, but sweet onee-sans go to heaven to live in happiness, didn't you know?"

"Pff, you're not fooling anyone there. I'm not sure if you're aware of the definition of 'sweet,' but..."

"Ah, but this is where you show how bad you are at science, Hikigaya-kun. Beryllium, element number four, is both quite sweet _and_ a deadly poison."

"So you admit that you're a deadly poison."

"Ah, Hikigaya-kun, but it takes one to know one. And you can't exactly deny your own toxicity, now, can you?"

I paused, taken aback. "...you've known exactly what's been going on this entire time."

"Did you expect anything less? And I've been right, too. I told you about Yukino-chan-"

"DON'T say that name to me."

"Ohh, getting prickly, are we? Fufu, but how do you expect to talk about this without mentioning my dear little sister?"

"Haah… you can't have any friends, being like this. And if there's anyone out there who can dance around a topic better than you, I haven't met them yet."

"Ah, you smooth talking flatterer, you." She _would_ take that as a compliment… "So I assume Hayato told you about the engagement?"

"I don't even know why you're asking me, Miss Omniscient, because it's obvious that you already know exactly what happened."

"And then?" she pressed. "Where did Yukino-chan conf-"

"Shut UP."

Her gaze flattened and her eyes deadened into soulless discs. "My, how _boring_ of you, Hikigaya-kun… You're beginning to sound as testy as Hayato. I'm sure you don't want to be his replacement in _both_ of our eyes, do you?"

I sat, dumbstruck for a moment, before finally sighing. "I've known I was his replacement to you for quite a while, so I can't say it was a surprise on your end. Oh, my, my, are your insults getting weaker, Haruno-chan?" I asked mockingly.

"No, I just think you're getting stronger, Hikigaya-kun," she sighed, sounding a little serious and a little tired for a change. I raised my eyebrows.

"I would think you'd be a little happier that you've succeeded in creating a successor, but I guess even Dr. Frankenstein ran from his monster..."

Haruno Yukinoshita turned, smiled a smile that was all stretched lips, and looked me dead in the eye. And, softly. she clapped. Slow and mocking. "My, my, Hikigaya-kun. And did either Dr. Frankenstein or his monster ever find happiness?"

"...at least Mary Shelley made a couple bucks."

Haruno sat back in her chair and gazed into the distance. "Let's talk honestly here for a change, Hikigaya-kun."

"Do you even know the definition of that word?"

"Oh, I do. I do indeed. But honesty is only slightly less of an idealism than true love, or your little 'something genuine.'"

"So why even bother?"

"Tell me. Who told you about the arranged marriage?"

"Changing the subject? Even I can see something as obvious as that."

"Was it Yukino-chan, or Hayato?"

"Why does something like an engagement feel like such an overused trope? It's like an automatic suspension-creator. You ordered some tension? Here you go, one arranged marriage."

"Or could it have been Mother? No, she wouldn't have bothered coming into contact with you…"

"Haruno, whose side are you on anyway?"

"Ah, Hikigaya-kun. I'm on nobody's side but my own. Just like Dr. Frankenstein, eh?"

"No, that's not the whole story, is it? Even Dr. Frankenstein had a family he wanted to protect, had a love interest, had things for the monster to destroy. And I'm much too familiar with the lie that is 'nobody's side but my own.'"

"Fufu, soon enough you'll send me running into the Arctic on a dogsled."

"Or, does the great Haruno Yukinoshita not even know whose side she's on? Heh, in the end, you're so much like your sister it's scary. You accuse her of imitating you, but here, she almost had something that you never did."

Haruno gazed back at me quietly, her lavender eyes strangely soft, like the center of a baseball. "Perhaps I should get to writing my letters to England, before I die?"

"You-" But I was cut off by a look from her.

"My sister didn't 'almost have' that genuine thing. You know this as well as I do. I told you before - it's not trust. It's something far more sinister. Trust is confidence in each other's strength. What Yukino-chan had for you was the product of a weak will, a lack of self, and nobody else to turn to. Sometimes, when you thrown a kid in a pool, they learn to swim. Other times, well…"

"You would let your own sister drown?"

"You would let your friend drown."

"We were never friends."

"You would refuse to help someone because they weren't your friend? Truly heartless."

"Like you're one to talk. And drowning people have a fearsome reputation for pulling unwitting rescuers under with them in their panic."

"So you're implying you have something to lose, after all. How boring."

"Humans are naturally selfish, after all. And I'm only human."

"...so, it turns out Yukino-chan wasn't chosen again, huh?" she sighed after a pause.

"Trust has to work both ways, Yukinoshita-san."

.

 **de·pend·ence**

/dəˈpendəns/

(noun)

the state of relying on or being controlled by someone or something else.

.

I had hope, oh yes. Foolish hope.

But Yukinoshita Haruno is never wrong.

.

 **trust**

/trəst/

 _(noun)_

firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.

.

 _"Hikigaya-kun… I… I, I-"_

 _"I know what you're trying to say, Yukinoshita. Don't worry about it."_

 _"Oh, er, okay…. so… what is your answer?"_

 _"When does the arranged marriage with Hayama come into effect?"_

 _"Huh? Wait, did my sister tell you about that? Don't worry, it's actually fairly straightforward to remove and I can convince Mother-"_

 _"Who are you?"_

 _"What?"_

 _"What happened to the Yukinoshita Yukino that I know?"_

 _"Huh?"_

 _"We could have worked this out together. Without false pretenses. You didn't have to force yourself to pretend."_

 _"What? I'm not pretending anything, these are m-my true feelings…"_

 _Yet her voice trembled with uncertainty._

 _"It's quite simple what's happened here. The engagement to Hayama caused you to panic. You mistook the relief you felt when I could help you for attraction. Surely you should have realized this much."_

 _"That's not… that's not t-true at all…"_

 _A tear slipped down her cheek._

 _I turned away._

 _"I'll help you. I promised you that much. But not like this. I won't pretend with you. That's the one thing I won't do."_

 _"H-hikigaya-kun…"_

 _"Goodbye."_

 _"...I'm sorry…."_

 _"Me too."_

.

 **Heya ladies and gents, ImaNuke here again…**

 **So, this came out way more depressing than I originally had in mind… like WAY more depressing.**

 **The object of this one was to outline a particular discrepancy that I feel could easily cause a center of conflict within the relationship between 8man and Yukino, and to do so in the length of one chapter. The issue at hand was, as 8man explained, very simple: Yukino faces an arranged marriage; somewhere in the trusting, reliant part of herself, she sees 8man as her savior, her way out; and thus, neither she nor 8man can be certain of the validity of her own feelings - how much was the result of genuine (dare I say it) love, and how much the result of that reliance, that "something worse than trust?"**

 **And who better to discuss these topics than the perpetrator herself, Haruno?**

 **Okay, enough explaining away my own story. Hopefully, all of you Yukino fans don't decide to take up pitchforks and torches and storm my house, demanding vengeance… I swear I have a nice Yukinofluff chapter planned! I swear!**

 **(I also have at least 4 other chapters in the works, so it's not material I'm short of… rather, it's the other precious commodities, time and motivation.)**

 **Anyway, if you enjoyed - or wanted to rage at me for any of the following: a) writing a Yukino rejection; b) having a Haruno chapter without a proper Haruno ship; c) writing about Yukino; d) not writing enough words (you know, I should stop providing you guys with ammo to throw at me) - please leave a fave, a follow, or a review. As a writer, it's the only real way I know that I made an impact on you readers, which, at the end of the day, is the truest goal of the author.**

 **Plus, it also motivates me to pump out that lovely fluff chapter to ease your (and my) stinging wounds…**

 **As always, thanks for reading, and I'll cya next chapter.**


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